


Whilst You Were Looking

by silver_galaxy



Category: Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 22:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 51,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_galaxy/pseuds/silver_galaxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Phantom lets Christine and Raoul go, Christine disappears back into the cellars and doesn't return. Meg watches as Raoul becomes obsessed with finding her and helps him learn to let go of Christine and see that there is a life for him without her.</p>
<p>
  <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/496024?view_adult=true">'Whilst You Were Looking', artwork by NEStar</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Escape and Return

Raoul gripped Christine’s hand tightly as they dragged themselves up the stairs that would take them out of the theatre’s cellars. Christine trailed behind, the yards of material that made up the wedding dress making each step an effort. They were both exhausted and Raoul knew that Christine needed to stop and rest, but they couldn’t risk stopping, not now. He felt certain that the Phantom wasn’t truly going to let them go, wasn’t going to let Christine leave him. They wouldn’t be safe until they had left his domain and all Raoul could focus on at this moment was getting out of the theatre and to the de Chagny estate.

“Wait, Raoul we need to stop.” Christine panted, ceasing all efforts to continue moving forward.

He tugged on her arm, trying to coax her forward but not pulling hard enough to hurt her. “No we have to keep going Christine. We’re almost there, I promise. We just need to get away from here.”

“Please, just a moment,” She said, pulling her hand away from Raoul and leaning against a damp brick wall to try and catch her breath.

Raoul glanced around, certain that the Phantom was going to appear at any moment.

“That’s long enough.” Raoul said after a moment. They had been standing in the one spot for too long now and they had to move on. He grabbed Christine’s hand and started pulling her up the stairs again.

They walked in silence, their heavy breathing and the noise Raoul’s shoes were making the only indication that there was a soul in the cellars.

“I think we’re close,” he murmured, tightening his grip on Christine’s hand. “I’m starting to recognise things.” As they got closer to the surface there was more evidence of life. The people who lived and worked in the theatre may not have gone down to the lowest levels of the cellars because of their fear of the Opera Ghost, but the levels closest to the surface were still used for storage of old costumes, sets and props. The lower levels however, looked like they had been abandoned for decades.

“I think this is the final level.” He exclaimed, starting to move faster. They were so close; once they entered the main part of the theatre they would be safe. After tonight’s performance the Phantom wouldn’t dare show his face in the public areas of the theatre, not with the authorities still on the premises waiting to capture him. “Come on Christine.”

But whilst Raoul was moving faster, desperate to escape the cellars, Christine started to slow down again. Each step she took was a bit slower than the last and Raoul found that he needed to pull her harder to ensure that she was keeping up with him.

“Christine, please. We’re almost there.” He pleaded, continuing to tug her forward.

“The mob is coming. I can hear them.” She stated the fact so simply, like she was commenting on the weather.

Raoul couldn’t hear them but he felt it was best to accept that Christine could. “I’m sure that they’re further down in the cellars, they won’t find us here. But we still need to keep going; it isn’t safe for anyone down here.” He hoped that Christine was correct and that the mob was nearby. Hopefully they would be enough of a distraction for the Phantom to ensure that he could take Christine safely from the theatre without being followed.

“No!” Christine cried, twisting her wrist so that Raoul was forced to let her go.

“What’s wrong?” Raoul asked, looking around the dark cellars for some sign that something was wrong. Had the Phantom been able to evade the mob and find them already?

“Raoul, I can’t just...I have to...” Christine struggled to explain what she was thinking. Now that her hand was free she started walking backwards, away from Raoul. He lunged forward to try and recaptured her hand. She jumped backwards and turned around so she was looking back down the stairs. “You keep going.” She instructed, without turning around to face him. With that she took off, running down into the darkness, the dress no longer appearing to hamper her efforts to move.

“Christine, wait!” Raoul shouted, running after her. He couldn’t even imagine what she was thinking going back there. They were so close and he knew that she wanted to get away from this dreadful place as much as he did. Although the Phantom had told them to leave Raoul didn’t trust the creature for a moment. For all he knew it was just part of a trap to capture Christine again, letting her go but then luring her back. The thought made him run even faster, heedless of the risk that the smallest misstep could send him into another of the Phantom’s traps.

“Christine!” he called out again, the sound echoing off the stone walls. He slowed to a jog, hoping to hear her reply. When he didn’t hear anything he stopped completely, straining to hear any noise at all. The cellar was deathly silent and couldn’t even hear a shuffling noise that would indicate Christine’s slippers moving on the cellar floor. He didn’t understand how she could have gotten away from him so quickly. Unless there were other passageways that she knew about that he hadn’t seen or were hidden. He still didn’t know how many hours Christine had spent with that creature down here. Perhaps he had shown her the secret passageways that he used to move around the theatre and she now knew the subterranean levels of the theatre as well as she knew the above ground levels.

Not hearing anything he continued on, trying to keep his steps as quiet as possible so as not to attract any unwanted attention. Assuming that Christine hadn’t gone back the way they had come, he started walking down smaller side passages, until he realised that he was lost and didn’t know how to get back. Swearing under his breath, he continued walking forwards. He could only hope that if he walked for long enough he would find Christine. Once he found her and knew that she was safe then he would worry about getting them out of here. But right now, being lost was the least of his problems if he didn’t have Christine safely with him.

* * *

Meg gingerly put her foot on the ladder, hoping that the ancient looking wood wasn’t going to crack under her weight. When nothing happened she ventured to put more of her weight on it, but kept her hands ready to break her fall in case the ladder did give way. She took one last look down the hole she was about to climb into. She could see the first rungs of the ladder and if she brought her lantern in close she could just make out the last rungs as they reached the floor below, but there was nothing but darkness beyond the ladder.

She glanced around the level she was currently occupying; there was nothing of interest, except for the hole in the floor that she was currently standing by. The hole had been disguised, covered by a trapdoor that had blended into the floor. It had been entirely by accident that Meg had discovered the trapdoor when resting against the wall, part of the brickwork giving way slightly under her thumb. When she had pushed harder on the wall, the floor seemed to melt away, revealing the ladder. The entire chamber however, and the few items within it, was covered in a filthy layer of dust. It was obvious that no one had ventured down here in years, the dirt completely undisturbed until Meg had arrived and left a maze of footprints.

Did anyone even realise how deep the cellars of the opera went, she wondered. Even the bravest of the stagehands would only go down to the first few levels and they generally required a great many sips from a flask before they would do so. The mid levels must have been used at some point because Meg had found old costumes, although when she had gone to pick them up the more delicate fabrics had disintegrated between her fingers. But down here, there was nothing. She felt for certain that she must be near the bottom. Each level had become that much cooler and there was a smell of moisture in the air.

She readjusted her grip on the lantern and reached out with her other hand to hold onto the side of the ladder. She took a deep breath and shifted her weight onto the ladder. When it didn’t even creak Meg decided that it wasn’t going to break under her and she quickly started climbing down.

One she reached the bottom she held the lantern up to see where she was. She was somewhat disappointed to find that this level looked exactly the same as the previous one, although once again she could feel that it was getting colder. She paused for a moment and realised that she could hear the sound of lapping water.

As she started walking towards the source of the sound she saw that there were more shadows on the ground that her small lantern was capable of creating. She thought for a moment that the mob had beaten her down here but quickly told herself that it was impossible, unless the mob was silent, which she very much doubted.

Still, she started proceeding much slower than she had been and was ready to jump back into the shadows and snuff out her lantern if necessary. She could see that there was a passageway up ahead that was putting out a lot more light than any of the others. As she got closer she saw that the passage was lined with lamps, a random selection of which had been extinguished. As she walked passed one she stood up on her toes to peer in. There was still fuel in it and she could smell the smoke that indicated it had been burning recently. As she dropped back down, she looked nervously around, checking whether the person who extinguished the lamps was still nearby.

There was a door at the end of the passage way, but it looked like it hadn’t been shut properly, only pulled to. Meg placed her hand on the door and slowly pushed it forward. Peeking around the edge she saw a properly furnished room, and more curious than scared now, she walked in.

At first she thought that someone must have had some fun when putting props away but as she walked passed a small side table she realised that this was proper furniture, not the flimsy, easy to move pieces that they used on stage. The furniture was similar to what you would find in the drawing room of a wealthy home, all made from dark polished wood with velvet cushions and it was slightly out of date. The body of water on the other side of the cavern however was a stark reminder that this wasn’t an ordinary drawing room.

She walked further in, trying to grasp the idea that somebody could live underneath the opera. There was a large organ up against the far wall and the bench for it was lying on its side, as though whoever was playing it had stood up quickly, knocking it over. There were small stacks of paper on nearly every surface Meg could see and as she got closer she realised that it was covered in hastily written music.

She stopped at a small chaise longue where there was a neatly folded pile of clothes. She sat down and started unfolding them. She shook out a white shirt and nearly dropped it when she realised that it was part of Christine’s Aminta costume.

Christine had been down here. She could have slapped herself for being so stupid. This was obviously the Phantom’s home. Who else would be living this far beneath the opera house? But if Christine had been here, where was she now?

“Christine?” she called softly. She cleared her throat before calling out louder, “Christine?”

Meg didn’t know what she was going to do if the Phantom was still here. She could only hope that he wouldn’t hurt her because she was a woman and because she was Christine’s friend. As she thought about it more, she remembered how angry he had been when he had dragged Christine from the stage. If he was that enraged, she doubted that he would hesitate to hurt her if he believed she was a threat. Still, she had to know whether Christine was here, regardless of the risks.

She continued to call out her friend’s name, but there was nothing except silence in response. She kept walking through the Phantom’s home, noting that it consisted of a number of small rooms that all faced into the main room she was currently exploring. Seeing the title ‘Don Juan Triumphant’, she stopped to pick up a sheet of music. Quickly reading over the lyrics she saw that this was music for the last song of the opera, one that would likely never be performed now.

Suddenly she was aware of sounds coming from above her. There was no doubt that it was the mob, their angry voices carrying down into the cavern. They had obviously found another way down. She took one last glance around the room. Unless Christine was hiding she wasn’t here anymore. Nonetheless Meg risked calling out her friend’s name one last time. Her voice echoed slightly but there was no reply. The mob was getting closer and Meg knew that she couldn’t risk being caught.

Moving silently, she ran back across the room towards the door she had come through. She gasped slightly as she realised that once shut the door would become invisible and no one would even realise that there was a passage behind it. As she slipped through the doorway, she made sure to pull the door firmly shut behind her, ensuring that the mob wouldn’t realise that she, or anyone else, had left this way.


	2. Why Are You Here?

As soon as the door was closed, Meg leaned up against it, trying to take in all that she had just seen. The whole theatre had seen the Phantom steal Christine from the stage, but nobody knew exactly where they had gone once they had disappeared from view. They had been done here at some point, or at least one of them had been, for how else would Christine’s costume have come to be there? The costume had been so neatly folded and Meg felt certain that it meant that Christine had been here, since she was always so tidy when it came to her costumes.

Meg knew how much Christine had adored her angel of music and she had seen the attraction that was evident between the two on stage, but how did everything that had occurred in the past months fit in. Would Christine have come down here and then left with her angel of music or did the Phantom force her? She tried to tell herself that the folded Aminta costume meant that Christine must have been acting of her own free will at some point. The alternative was too horrifying to consider. 

The sound of shattering glass from the other side of the door made Meg wince. She felt certain that the door was entirely hidden, and no one would find it unless they knew to look for it. Still she instinctively took a few steps away from it.

From the sounds that the mob was making she didn’t think their aim in being down here was to find Christine. Meg wasn’t even certain if Christine would be safe if the mob happened to find her, especially if she was still with the Phantom. The same could be said for her, she realised. There would be very few women in the mob and if anyone found her it wouldn’t take long for them to realise that she hadn’t come down with them. If they though she was aiding the Phantom they could just as easily turn on her. Since she wasn’t achieving anything by remaining in the lower levels, she decided that her safest option would be to return to the surface and see if her mother knew anything further.

As she started climbing the ladders and then stairs that would take her up out of the cellars she was grateful for the extra warmth that each level presented. As she moved further away from the underground lake the smell of moisture disappeared from the air, only to be replaced by a closed in, musty smell. The silence was starting to become unnerving, the shouts of the mob having quickly disappeared as she made her way down the passage that lead away from the hidden door. 

Meg decided to rest for a moment once she had reached the second level. Even with her dance training it was tiring work getting out of the cellars. The staircases on the lower levels were crudely made, with uneven stairs that made climbing them even more difficult. She allowed her gaze to drift around the room before they came to rest on an old backdrop. She indulged in a small smile as she took in the painted vista of a grand country home, with a long sweeping driveway and a lake at the front. She remembered her mother allowing her to watch the dress rehearsals for that particular production as a child if she promised to be on her best behaviour. She had decided that day that when she grew up she was going to live in a home that looked exactly like the one in the painting. Looking at the painting she realised that she had almost forgotten that dream.

She was pulled from her reminiscing by the sound of a voice calling out. The voice was muffled by the stone walls and she couldn’t make out what it was saying but she immediately started looking for somewhere to hide, in case the person came any closer. The voice was getting louder and Meg tried to concentrate on the sound to work out what they were saying, and more importantly who they were.

“Where are you?” Was the first thing that Meg could clearly understand.

“Christine? Christine! Please answer me.” The male voice cried out desperately.

Meg started moving slowly away from her intended hiding spot and towards the voice. The voice sounded familiar but she couldn’t imagine that he would be down in the cellars of the opera house. But when she peered round a corner she saw that she was correct and the Vicomte de Chagny really was standing in the second cellar of the opera house calling out for Christine. His hair was hanging around his face and his once crisp white shirt was now stained and damp. Even in the darkness Meg could tell that he was ready to drop from exhaustion and it was only sheer stubbornness that was allowing him to continue on.

Not giving herself too much time to think about the consequences she stepped out of the shadows, softly calling his name so as not to startle him too much. “Monsieur le Vicomte?”

He was obviously on edge as he jumped and immediately whirled around to face her. For one brief moment Meg thought that he was going to attack her before he realised who she was, “Mademoiselle Giry?”

“Yes.” She confirmed, stepping closer to him. 

“What? What are you doing down here?” he asked, “And why are you dressed like that?” he continued, indicating the shirt and trousers that Meg was wearing. He normally would have been appalled to hear himself speaking like that but it didn’t even register with him that he shouldn’t have been asking questions like that of a lady. He did recognise however that it was a very strange thing to be asking in the circumstances, considering the many more important questions he could have asked of her.

Meg looked down at her outfit, slightly amazed that he would notice something as trivial as her outfit at a time like this. “It was my costume for later in the opera. With everything that happened I haven’t had a chance to change. What are you doing down here?”

“We had almost reached the dressing room when she ran away from me. I tried to call her back but she just told me to keep going. I couldn’t just leave her here so I tried to follow her but she was so quick and I haven’t been able to find her.” He rambled.

“You and Christine were down here, together?” Meg struggled to make sense of what he was saying.

“Yes. He let us go and we were almost at the first cellar when she started getting nervous or upset and she ran away from me.” This made only slightly more sense to Meg but she realised that whatever had happened to the Vicomte and Christine had obviously impacted on him tremendously.

“Monsieur, the Phantom took Christine from the stage. What happened next?” she coaxed.

“He took her down to his...lair, at the very bottom of the cellars. I don’t know what happened when they first arrived but by the time I arrived he had forced Christine to put on a wedding gown. I tried to convince him to let her go but he was too crazy to listen to me. He attacked me and tried to strangle me.” He unconsciously rubbed at his neck, the feeling of the rope against his skin still there. “He told Christine that she had to make a choice, he would only let me go if she agreed to stay with him and marry him. I told her not to agree, that it wasn’t worth it. But she didn’t listen. She told that thing,” he spat, “That she would stay with her. I don’t understand what happened but he suddenly told us to go. Christine managed to free me and we ran. I didn’t trust that he wouldn’t change his mind again and wanted to get Christine out of there as quickly as I could. But as we got closer to the surface she started slowing down, then she started saying that she couldn’t, and she needed to do something and then she ran away from me. I tried to follow her but she moved so quickly and she disappeared. I have to find her!” His voice rose slightly at the end, betraying his fear.

That certainly explained why Meg had found the Aminta costume down in the Phantom’s lair, although she was at a loss to understand why Christine would run away from the Vicomte when she was so close to being safe. But when she looked up at the devastated man in front of her she knew that she shouldn’t voice that particular opinion. She decided not to speculate on why Christine had run and instead focused on what she did know.

“I don’t think that Christine is here, in the cellars at least.” She ventured.

“What, how do you know that?” he asked sharply.

“I was just there, in the Phantom’s lair. I found Christine’s Aminta costume but there was no one there. I think that somebody had been there and had left quickly, because some of the torches had only just been extinguished. I had to leave when I heard the mob coming.”

“But that’s just the bottom level; his lair, of course Christine wouldn’t choose to go back there. But maybe she’s lost on one of the other levels.” He argued.

“If she was on any of the other levels she didn’t make any noise when I was there.” Meg said dubiously. “I don’t believe that she is here. Maybe she found a way out and is waiting in the theatre for you.”

“Perhaps.” Raoul sounded equally as dubious, still convinced that Christine was in the cellars.

“Follow me.” Meg instructed, heading towards the flight of stairs that would lead them to the highest level of the cellar.

Although Raoul hated the idea of potentially leaving Christine down in the cellars he had to admit that what Meg was saying made sense. Surely if Christine was looking for him, which he naturally assumed that she was, she would have been calling his name, just like he had been calling her’s. If Meg had heard him calling for Christine then she would have also heard Christine calling for him. Christine had most likely just become overwhelmed by what had happened on the stage and in the cellars when she had run from him, but once she had calmed down she had probably made her way back to the theatre and was now waiting for him.

He followed Meg out of the cellars, slightly ashamed that both she and Christine were able to navigate the cellars whilst he had become hopelessly lost on only the second level, but pushed the thought from his mind to focus on finding Christine.

Once they reached the surface, Raoul quickly took the lead from Meg and practically ran to Christine’s dressing room. Again ignoring the etiquette that had been drilled into him as a child he barged through the door without even pausing to knock and came to an abrupt standstill. Meg peeped around his shoulder to see that the room empty and dark, the lamp having burnt down to nothing.

“She’s not here. He took her again. I knew that it couldn’t be that easy. He’s obsessed with her, he isn’t just going to let her go.” Raoul said furiously, clenching his fist and punching the door frame.

“You don’t know that.” Meg said, discretely trying to check his knuckles for damage. “She could be anywhere in the theatre. I saw a large group of the girls in the stalls or perhaps she is with Maman.”

Raoul took a deep breath. “Right, of course. I apologise, I just hate the idea of that thing being anywhere near Christine. He’s already put her through so much.”

“We’ll find her quicker if we search separately.” Meg decided, “If you search the theatre, the foyer and public areas, I’ll search backstage and in some of the less frequently used parts of the theatre.”

Raoul obviously wasn’t convinced and when Meg saw the look on his face she attempted to reassure him, “I grew up in this theatre, I know every hiding place there is. Besides, there’s more than one entrance to the cellars and I want to check that Christine didn’t use one of them instead.”

They started their respective searches and whilst Meg started to become concerned that perhaps the Vicomte was right and the Phantom had taken Christine again, the worry that Meg had managed to briefly temper in Raoul once again grew into complete panic. There was nowhere else that Christine would go, the theatre was her home and everyone she cared about was here. They each held out the slightest hope that Christine would have been found by the other but that hope was quickly dashed when they met in the theatre foyer.

“This cannot continue.” Raoul declared, seeming much more confident now that he was out of the cellars, “We need more people to help search for Christine. The Phantom won’t be able to keep her hidden away if everyone is searching for her.”

“Monsieur, tonight was...very strange for everyone here. Not everyone knows exactly why Christine was given the lead role. I don’t know if many people will be willing to help. Not tonight.” Meg explained, trying to be tactful.

“They will if I tell them to.” Raoul said arrogantly, assuming that his status as patron was going to aid him. “I’ll speak to the managers about arranging search parties at once.” With that he started walking back to the stage, where he had last seen the managers. Meg quickly followed after him, concerned that this wasn’t going to turn out the way the Vicomte expected.


	3. A Vicomte's Influence

“No.” Monsieur Firmin said.

“Absolutely not.” Monsieur Andre added in support of his business partner.

Raoul was not used to the usually fawning managers of the Opera Populaire telling him no and it was evident in his voice when he spoke, “Why not?” he asked tightly.

“Monsieur le Vicomte, look around.” Monsieur Firmin said incredulously. “Half the people in this theatre are scared out of their wits, the other half has gone gallivanting around the cellars hunting the opera ghost. We only managed to show half of the opera, which no doubt the papers tomorrow will have a field day with. Our lead tenor was strangled and we still don’t know whether he will survive the night. And you want us to gather every together and organise search parties for you?”

“It’s not that we don’t care about Mademoiselle Daae,” Monsieur Andre cut in quickly, “Of course we do. But circumstances being what they are, I don’t think we would be able to gather enough people to assist you.”

“Are you not the managers of this theatre? You employ everyone who works here; surely you can direct them to assist in the search for Mademoiselle Daae. I’m not suggesting that you ask the audience, although surely there would be some people kind enough to help and of course their assistance would be appreciated.”

“Well perhaps we could...” Monsieur Andre started, seeing the Vicomte’s perspective.

“No, absolutely not.” Monsieur Firmin reiterated.

“Firmin, it might help if we gave people something to do, instead of having everyone wandering aimlessly around the theatre.” Monsieur Andre argued.

“And let the audience and our patrons see that we are giving credence to the idea that there is an opera ghost who steals young sopranos during the middle of an opera? No. The best thing we can do at the moment is try and get everyone out of the theatre and then we can work on limiting the damage in the morning.” It was obvious that Monsieur Firmin was trying very hard to stay calm.

“You would put the reputation of this theatre above the safety of a young woman?” Raoul demanded.

“When the theatre’s reputation is what is ensuring the ongoing livelihood of everyone who work in this theatre? Yes.” Monsieur Firmin retorted. “What do think will happen to all the other young women who work at the Opera Populaire if tonight ruins us? There aren’t enough jobs in the city for an entire corps of ballet dancers.” He continued, waving a hand in Meg’s direction.

“But the audiences love Christine,” she interrupted, “Wouldn’t it help the theatre if she was here. And singing.” She mentally scolded herself for sounding so awkward in front of the managers and the Vicomte. Whilst the Vicomte seemed to have regained his confidence since leaving the cellars she seemed to have lost her’s.

“Of course.” Monsieur Andre said graciously, “But there is the other issue of whether Mademoiselle Daae wants to be found.” He looked nervously at Monsieur Firmin who just rolled his eyes at his partner.

“What?” Raoul said in a dangerously low voice. 

Monsieur Andre looked at Monsieur Firmin again, hoping that he would elaborate for the Vicomte but he just waved a hand at him, indicating that he should continue. “Mademoiselle Daae was very...familiar with the gentleman on the stage. One might say almost intimately so. She certainly didn’t conduct herself in that manner during rehearsals with Monsieur Piangi.”

Whilst she would never admit it Meg felt that Monsieur Andre did have a point. But still she didn’t believe that it automatically discounted the possibility that Christine had been taken against her will, not after what had happened during Christine’s last moments on the stage.

“There were people in the audience, other patrons even, who suggested that perhaps what they were seeing wasn’t being acted. Certainly what the gentleman sung at the end wasn’t a part of the opera and he did call her Christine, rather than Aminta. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time that a young lady has left the theatre under those sorts of circumstances...” he trailed off, not quite sure how to phrase the next part delicately.

Meg knew exactly what Monsieur Andre was trying to say and she was quite certain that none of the girls who had ever left the theatre to be with a lover had been taken from the stage in the middle of a performance. Still she decided not to say anything.

“Oh for goodness sake Andre,” Monsieur Firmin said, shaking his head in disgust, “What my partner is trying to say is that it seems just as likely that Mademoiselle Daae choose to leave with that man. After seeing their performance I’m inclined to say that it is actually more than likely. And we are not going to go chasing after a girl who’s run off with her lover.”

“How dare you?” Raoul shouted, taking a threatening step towards Monsieur Firmin. Meg immediately took a step forward as well, foolishly hoping that she would be able to hold the Vicomte back if he decided that violence was the answer. “How can you possibly believe that Christine would choose to go off with that monster? Didn’t you see her face? She was terrified.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time that a man has scared his lover during a fight.” Monsieur Firmin shrugged.

“Do not call her that thing’s lover.” He ground out.

“It doesn’t matter what I call her. The point is that we will not be conducting any searches for Mademoiselle Daae tonight.” Monsieur Firmin said resolutely.

“Perhaps we can consider it tomorrow.” Monsieur Andre said, hoping to soften the blow.

“So you won’t help one of the most generous patrons of the Opera Populaire search for his fiancée after she has been kidnapped from your stage.” Raoul stated, “If you two gentleman are unwilling to assist I will have to withdraw my patronage immediately.”

The past months of dealing with the Opera Ghost had made Monsieur Firmin much braver when it came to demanding patrons. “The de Changy patronage is a family patronage, I highly doubt you family would allow you to withdraw it because of a former chorus girl. Besides, if we aren’t able to salvage the theatre after tonight, your patronage will be worthless.”

Raoul was about to argue the point further when they were interrupted by one of Monsieur Andre’s clerks, “Excuse Messieurs, the Comte Dampierre would like to speak with you. Immediately.” He said, glancing over at the very angry looking Comte who was comforting his scared wife.

“Wonderful.” Monsieur Firmin groaned, immediately walking towards the Comte.

“Our apologies for Mademoiselle Daae.” Monsieur Andre said before quickly running after his partner. 

Raoul was about to follow after the managers, determined to make them listen to him when he felt Meg’s restraining hand wrap around his arm. He looked down at her questioningly.

“Do not follow them Monsieur, they have made up their minds. Perhaps tomorrow, when they are calmer.” Over the past few weeks Meg had seen that the managers were becoming more stubborn and she knew that the Vicomte wasn’t going to be able to achieve anything tonight beyond further irritating the two men.

“Tomorrow could be too late. He could have taken her miles from here by then.” He said, pulling away from her and again stepping towards the managers.

“If Christine is in the main part of the theatre someone will find her eventually. But if she’s still down in the cellars...You would find very few men in their right minds willing to go down into the cellars tonight, not past the first few levels. I think that some would even be willing to lose their jobs to avoid it.” Meg wished she had had the opportunity to tell the Vicomte this earlier.

“What do you suggest then?” he said, deflating slightly.

Meg paused for a moment, she hadn’t actually thought about what else they could do. “I’ve already been down there. I’m sure I could find my way down again. I didn’t have much time to search for Christine before because of the mob. But maybe she was hiding from the mob and if we go down again we’ll find her.”

“You would be willing to do that for Christine?” Raoul asked, astonished. He had been surprised to find Meg in the cellars to begin with, he certainly didn’t expect that she would willingly return.

“Of course.” Meg said indignantly, “Christine is my closest friend. Follow me.” She ordered, stalking back to the areas of the theatre that were closed to the public. Not even looking to ensure that that the Vicomte was following her she deftly wove through the crowds. Only once they reached the entrance to the cellars that they had come out of earlier did she check to see that he was still behind her.

Their descent into the cellars was much quicker than Meg’s first trip, now that she knew where she was going, but Raoul found that once they had passed the first levels of the cellars he no longer recognised where they were.

“Are you sure this is the way?” he asked. This route was nothing like the one Madame Giry had directed him to take and he wondered whether her daughter was getting them lost.

“These cellars are huge, there’s more than one way to get down.” Meg informed him, “Here, this is the last level.” She said, pointing to the exposed hole in the floor. On her return she hadn’t stopped to find a way to close the trapdoor and it didn’t appear that it was going to automatically close.

When they reached the torch lit corridor Meg noted that a few more of the torches had been extinguished and she hoped that it was simply because they had run out of fuel. On seeing the door, Raoul quickly took the lead and was about to open it when Meg said, “Wait. Listen. Is the mob gone?”

Raoul placed his ear up against the door, “I can’t hear anything.”

“Good.” Meg whispered and pressed herself up against the wall as Raoul struggled to operate the complex latch that Meg hadn’t noticed the first time. After a few moments he was finally successful in opening the door and walked through. As she followed him through she pulled a chair over to the door to prop it open.

“My god.” Raoul gasped, taking in the ruins of the Phantom’s lair, “What happened down here?”

“The mob.” Meg explained briefly, also surveying the damage. It was almost heart breaking to see the once beautiful furniture lying on pieces on the floor. The organ that was against the far wall was severely damaged, as though someone had attacked it with a large hammer and the bench that had been lying on its side was nowhere to be seen. Meg doubted that the organ could be repaired, even if anyone cared enough to try. “I could hear them coming when I was down here, that’s why I left.”

“Do you think they could have found Christine?” Raoul asked fearfully. Meg had obviously left because she was afraid of what the mob might have done to her had they found her in the Phantom’s lair. Could they have found Christine and turned their destructive attention on her? Especially if they believed that she was involved with the creature, like Andre and Firmin had suggested.

“No,” Meg said, trying to sound confident, “If they had attacked her they would have left her here.” She didn’t believe that they would have bothered taking her back to the theatre and if they had they would have been stopped from doing anything foolish by the managers and the authorities.

They walked further into the lair and Raoul could see where he had come in the first time. “Christine?” he called out, “Christine darling, please if you are here say something. I know that you are scared but I promise you are safe now. Mademoiselle Giry and I are here and we know how to leave this place.”

The only sound in the cavern was the lapping of water.

“She’s not here Vicomte.” Meg said gently. She wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to ward off the chill in the air. “We should go.”

“What if Christine is still down here? Do you want to just leave her down here? Anything could happen to her. She could be hurt.” he argued.

“We can’t stay here all night,” she replied, although she felt as thought it was probably close to dawn by now. “If Christine was here we would have found her. We’ll keep looking for her on the way back up, but I really don’t think she’s here anymore.”

“You’re right.” Raoul relented. He hated not knowing where Christine was but staying in the Phantom’s lair wasn’t going to assist them at this stage. 

Their trip back to the theatre was the slowest yet, as they tried to explore every room, passage and corridor in the cellars without getting lost. Their voices because hoarse, a combination of calling Christine’s name and inhaling the dust that was everywhere.

“Did you find her?” Madame Giry greeted them as they exited into a rarely used corridor of the theatre. That she was waiting in that particular corridor seemed strange to Raoul, as though she knew that this was another way down to the bottom of the cellars.

“No Maman.” Meg answered sadly. “She hasn’t come back here then.” She said turning to address Raoul, who was resting against the wall.

“You knew how I could find him the first time,” Raoul said slowly, “Where is he now?”

“What do you mean?” Meg asked, puzzled as she took in the way the Vicomte was looking at her mother.

“I do not know.” Madame Giry said.

“I don’t believe you. You knew exactly where he was before, where he had taken Christine. Why wouldn’t you know his secrets now?” he straightened up, using his height to try and intimidate Madame Giry.

“He would not share all his secrets with me. If I knew where Christine was, don’t you think I would have gone to her, to find out if she was alright?” she argued.

“After tonight I don’t know where your loyalties lie. Perhaps you would choose that thing over Christine.” He threw back at her.

“How dare you? I love Christine like a daughter. That’s why I told you where you could find her,” her knuckles were turning white from the grip she had on her cane.

“Where the Phantom almost killed me!” Raoul exclaimed, “Perhaps you were helping him all along...”

“That’s enough,” Meg interrupted, moving to stand in front of her mother. “My mother would never hurt Christine, how dare you suggest such a thing? I think you should leave now, there’s nothing more that can be done tonight.”

“But she...” he started.

“No. Do not speak to her like that ever again. Come back in the morning if you can behave like a civilised gentleman. But if you say one more word against her I will have the stagehands throw you out, I don’t care if you are a patron.” She concluded, folding her arms across her chest.

For a moment both women thought that the Vicomte was going to argue and Meg was afraid that she would have to follow through on her threat to have the stagehands throw him out. But he didn’t say anything, simply turned around and walked down the corridor, leaving Madame Giry and her daughter to make their way back to the dormitories and try to get some sleep.


	4. What Happens Now?

Confident that now that the authorities had been officially notified of Christine’s disappearance the search for her would begin in earnest, Raoul returned to the theatre, wanting to continue his own search for her. He was sure that since he had left the theatre the night before the managers would have had the opportunity to think about the situation and had surely realised that it was in everyone’s best interests to locate Christine as quickly as possible. Today they would be able to conduct a proper search of the theatre.

He climbed the stairs at the front of the opera house two at a time and nodded briefly at the doorman. “Be careful Monsieur le Vicomte,” the doorman warned, “It’s a madhouse in there.”

Raoul stopped to look at the man, who looked almost relieved that his posting was outside. “What do you mean?”

“After last night, nobody knows what’s going on or what to do.” He explained.

“Thank you.” Raoul acknowledged, before making his way into the main foyer of the theatre. It looked like the cleaning staff hadn’t had the opportunity to clean the foyer after the events of last night, but otherwise it was quiet and empty. He walked further into the theatre, heading towards the stage. As he got closer he could hear noises coming from the main part of the theatre but the noises didn’t sound like those he would normally associate with a rehearsal. As he opened the door to let himself in he could see what the doorman had meant by a madhouse.

It seemed that every person employed by the theatre, from the lowliest cleaner right up to La Carlotta was either on the stage or in the stalls. As he surveyed the scene Raoul even noted that there was a group of what looked like stagehands drinking up in one of the boxes. The managers were on the stage arguing with each other, whilst Carlotta seemed to be shouting at anyone who would listen to her. A cluster of ballet rats had draped themselves over the plush velvet seats, something they normally wouldn’t dream of doing. Some of the younger boys who were part of the chorus were having sword fights with the props and Raoul heard one of them shout out “No-one can defeat the Phantom of the Opera!” Not wanting to hear any more of that conversation he quickly turned his attention elsewhere.

“Excuse me,” he said, snagging the arm of one of the seamstresses as she rushed by and hoping that she had retain some modicum of sensibility as it seemed that most people here had lost their minds, “What has happened here?”

She was about to pull away and chastise him for harassing her when she realised who he was, “Monsieur le Vicomte. Nobody knows what is happening. The managers,” she waved her hand in the direction of the stage, “They didn’t plan for what would happen after last night’s performance. We don’t have a new production to rehearse and the performers don’t need to rest for tonight. There is nothing to do. And the excitement of last night...nobody would be able to concentrate at any rate.” With a quick curtsey she hurried off.

Had the managers really not planned for another production after Don Juan Triumphant? Raoul knew that all his attention had been focused on Christine and capturing the Phantom but surely the managers were thinking ahead? As he looked at them bickering on stage however he wondered if he were perhaps giving them too much credit. Still whether the theatre had another production ready to be performed was not his concern. He wanted to conduct a proper search of the theatre before the authorities arrived later this afternoon and any performances or rehearsals would only hinder the process.

* * *

”How long do you think Messieurs Andre and Firmin will allow this to continue Maman?” Meg asked as they stood on the very edge of the stage in between the curtains that lead to the wings. 

“Far longer than they should.” Madame Giry said grimly, “They should have made an announcement first thing this morning and explained what was happening next. Most people do not even know that Monsieur Piangi has survived. If they allow everyone to keep behaving like this they’ll never regain enough control to put on another production.”

She suddenly noticed that a large number of her dancers were sitting in the stalls. Walking out onto the stage she brought her cane down with a large bang, immediately attracting the attention of her girls, “Remove yourselves from those chairs this instant.” She thundered. The girls quickly jumped to their feet and smoothed out any invisible wrinkles they had left on the cushions. “Back to the dormitories,” she instructed, “I will fetch you when there is work to be done.”

Meg watched as the other dancers scurried to comply with her mother’s instructions. With the dancers gone the noise level had dropped slightly in the theatre. “Unless the managers stop arguing with each other there isn’t going to be work for any of us to do.” She said as Madame Giry returned to her side. “And you can’t keep the girls in the dormitories all day.”

“I know, but for the moment I want them all in the one place, where I can find them and where they aren’t going to do further damage to this theatre.” Madame Giry said. “If nothing has been decided by lunch time I will hold a practise session for all the dancers. We don’t want anyone’s skills to deteriorate because there are no rehearsals to attend.”

Meg personally believed that nobody’s skills were going to deteriorate that quickly, but kept quiet in case her mother decided that she should return to the dormitories as well.

“Madame Giry, Mademoiselle Giry?” the Vicomte said, having caught sight of them as he had been making his way to talk with the managers.

“What do you want?” Meg said warily, taking a step forward so she was in front of her mother.

“Meg!” Madame Giry scolded her daughter for her obvious lack of respect and manners.

“Has Christine been found yet?” he asked anxiously.

“She hasn’t.” Meg answered, looking as though she expected a repeat performance of the previous night’s accusations.

“Oh.” He replied numbly. He hadn’t expected that she would have been found but it was still disappointing to hear. He started rubbing at the brim of his hat, feeling slightly sheepish that he needed to have this conversation but knowing that it was necessary

“Please Mademoiselle Giry,” he said, looking at Meg, “I promise that I will not conduct myself as I did last night. I only wish to apologise.”

She studied him for a moment, before deciding that he was sincere and stepping back to stand next to Madame Giry before motioning for him to continue.

“My behaviour last night was inexcusable. I should not have spoken to you in that manner nor should I have accused you of withholding information about Christine.” He started, “I realise now that whilst your relationship with...the Phantom, is complicated...”

“Vicomte...” Meg warned.

“No Meg, he is right.” Meg looked at her mother in surprise whilst Madame Giry realised that she would need to have a conversation with her daughter very soon about just how much she knew about the Opera Ghost.

“Right. So although you have a complicated relationship with this...man, I also know that Christine thinks of you as a mother and that you would never do anything to harm her. If you thought that she was in any danger you would do whatever was necessary to make sure that she was safe, just as you would do for your daughter.” Raoul continued. “I apologise for any distress that I may have caused you last night. I know that you were worried about what had happened to Christine, and you had the rest of your girls to worry about, and I should not have added to your problems by accusing you of withholding information.”

“No you should not have.” She agreed, “Monsieur le Vicomte, I have known Christine since she was a child and in many ways I have been like a mother to her, just like I have been a mother to many of the girls who come here to dance, although I must admit that I have probably been more attentive to Christine because of her father. And I would never put her in any danger. That’s why I told you to go into the cellars last night and you must believe that if I knew anything about where she was now I would tell you. But,” she continued, allowing some of the sternness to leave her expression, “I can understand why you may have thought that I knew something after I told you how to get into the cellars and how to approach him. If you are able to say that you believe me when I say that I do not know where Christine is then I will accept you apology.”

“Of course Madame Giry. I promise that I do believe you and that I will make no more accusations. My only concern now is of course finding Christine and I hope that you will be willing to help in any way you can.” Now that Madame Giry had accepted his apology he stopped worrying at the brim of his hat, instead clutching it tightly.

“Certainly. Has there been news since last night?” she enquired.

“No. I was hoping that something may have occurred here during my absence but it looks as though the managers are not in a fit state to do anything at this stage.” He said, looking to where Messieurs Firmin and Andre were still arguing, although Carlotta had now joined them. “I spoke to one of the seamstresses on my way in; she said that there are no productions planned at this stage?”

“No announcements have been made by the managers at this stage,” Madame Giry said smoothly, still aware that she was talking to a significant patron of the Opera Populaire.

“Everybody has been talking about what happened last night,” Meg said, joining the conversation, “But nobody has said anything about seeing Christine, or the Phantom, since last night.”

“I lodged a report with the authorities first thing this morning,” the Vicomte informed them, “They were of course aware of what occurred here last night, in fact many of them were here assisting in the effort to capture the Phantom, however no-one had informed them that Christine was missing. It seems that in the chaos of last night none of the officers in attendance bothered to report that fact to their superiors. They have advised me that they will be asking some preliminary questions of people who attended the opera this morning and will come here to look for any evidence this afternoon.”

Meg thought that it would have made more sense to visit the theatre first and then start questioning people but she assumed that the police were proceeding in this order for a reason. 

“What do you intend to do in the mean time?” Madame Giry asked.

“I was hoping to speak to the managers again about organising search parties...”

“We looked all through the cellars last night, and up here. If she were in the theatre we would have found her by now Vicomte. She would have realised that we are searching for her.” Meg interrupted.

“What if she’s hurt, or unconscious? She might never have heard us last night,” Raoul suddenly realised, “We could have left her there for hours.”

“We spent hours searching for her last night. I don’t think there were many places were didn’t look. Even if she were hurt I think that we would have found her.” She pointed out.

“I suppose,” he said sadly, “But we still need to try. I realise that finding Christine is not going to be an easy task but even if we don’t find her perhaps we could find some clue as to where he might have taken her, a letter or a receipt for a train ticket, something. Maybe then we can present the evidence to the police and they’ll be able to find Christine sooner.”

“That is a good idea Monsieur le Vicomte,” Madame Giry said encouragingly, “But I think it may be wiser to form your own search parties, rather than relying on the managers at this time.”

“I’ll fetch the ballet rats,” Meg offered, “I’m sure they’d rather help find Christine than be stuck in the dormitories for the rest of the day.”

“Good. Thank you, Mademoiselle Giry.” Raoul said, grateful that she appeared to have also accepted his apology.

As Meg ran off to the dorms to tell the other dancers what was happening, Madame Giry and the Vicomte decided that he would arrange volunteers in the theatre, whilst she would go backstage to see who else she could find to assist in the search. Once they had arranged the search parties then they would inform the managers.


	5. A Lady's Bedroom

“I’ve already said that you will all help.” Meg said, addressing the dormitory of bored dancers. “Besides, if you don’t help you’ll have to spend the rest of the day stuck in here.”

“I don’t know Meg, won’t your mother be upset if we leave?” one of the younger ballet rats asked.

“Of course not,” Meg dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand, “Maman knows that I’ve come here and wants to find Christine as much as anyone. She’ll only get mad if you leave the dormitory to do something like gossip in the stalls and sneak away with a stagehand.”

“I heard that Christine isn’t actually missing. One of the patrons said last night that she’s probably run off to marry her lover. We’re not going to find her if she deliberately ran away.” One girl said haughtily.

“Yes but the Vicomte de Chagny is her lover,” another pointed out, “And I saw him in the theatre this morning. So she couldn’t have run away with him. And why would he be here searching for her if he knew where she was?”

“Oh...” the first girl didn’t have a response to this. 

“Maybe she had another lover?” someone piped up at the back of the room, “Maybe she had to run away with him because Monsieur le Vicomte would be terribly jealous and would chase them down. Maybe that’s why he’s at the theatre now, trying to find them!”

“Ooh, maybe her lover was the man on the stage last night. Did you see the way he was touching her?” an older girl asked, giggling slightly.

“That would be the Phantom of the Opera who then kidnapped her from the stage? Stop being foolish.” Another scoffed.

“The point is,” the girl who had raised the entire topic said loudly, “Christine probably ran away with a lover, whoever he is. Why should we waste our time looking for her?”

“Christine did not run away with a lover,” Meg said tightly, “She is being courted by the Vicomte de Chagny and I can guarantee that she had no secret lover. We don’t know where she is or even whether she is unharmed. I can’t believe that you could all be so cold hearted. I thought Christine was everyone’s friend. You’ve known her for years and out of all of us she would be the last one to do something like run away with a lover. Why do you suddenly believe she would do such a thing?”

“We’re sorry Meg,” a younger girl said tearfully.

“We’ll help.” Another said meekly.

“Good. I want everyone down in the foyer in ten minutes. Everyone who is helping with the search will be meeting there so we can decide who will search what areas of the theatre.” Meg ordered.

* * *

“Messieurs?” Raoul interrupted the two managers who were still standing in the middle of the stage. He briefly wondered what they could still be arguing about before deciding that he didn’t care.

“Monsieur le Vicomte,” Monsieur Andre greeted, giving Raoul an obviously forced smile.

“Mademoiselle Daae has not returned yet,” Monsieur Firmin said, feeling certain that the Vicomte was going to ask about the missing soprano.

“I am aware of that,” he said glaring at the insensitive manager, “I want to repeat my request from last night.”

“Last night?” Monsieur Andre asked stupidly.

“To use the performers and crew in search parties to look for Christine. Madame and Mademoiselle Giry and I have already spoken to as many people as we’ve been able to find and most are willing to assist us.” Raoul said pointedly.

“I don’t believe that would be a problem now. All the patrons and members of the audience have gone so you won’t alarm anyone.” Monsieur Andre said.

“Yes, yes.” Monsieur Firmin agreed, “As long as everyone stays out of trouble and out of our hair, I don’t really care what you do with them at the moment.”

“Good.” Raoul said. Looking out into the stalls he saw that most of the ballet rats had returned and that Mademoiselle Giry was talking to her mother. Not bothering to excuse himself from the managers he walked over to the two women. “Is this everyone?” he asked.

“Most of the people who work at the theatre are here Vicomte,” Madame Giry replied, believing the Vicomte was unhappy with the numbers.

But Raoul either didn’t notice or didn’t care about his perceived slight for he continued, “We should start the search immediately.”

Madame Giry nodded in agreement walked to the front of the stage. She brought her cane down twice on the floor of the stage, creating a noise that reverberated throughout the theatre. The chattering from the audience immediately ceased. “Christine Daae is still missing.” She announced without any further introduction. “Despite the rumours, she has not run away with a lover. You have all agreed to search the building for her or any clues as to her whereabouts if she is no longer here.”

There were a few mutterings from the audience but the group on the stage were pleased to see that nobody left.

“I want all of the dancers to search the rehearsal rooms and the living quarters and the chorus to search the stage and seating areas. Can the orchestra please search the public spaces such as the foyer and the dining rooms. I want the remaining female staff to search backstage whilst the men can search the cellars.” She instructed. The audience continued to watch her, waiting for her to say something more.

“Now.” Raoul thundered. He couldn’t understand how these people didn’t realise how important this was. The audience jumped at the normally mild mannered nobleman’s attitude towards them and quickly left the theatre, except for the orchestra who gathered together to plot a course of action.

“What should we do Maman?” Meg asked, wondering whether she should go with the other dancers.

Before Madame Giry had a chance to answer Raoul asked, “Why didn’t you tell them about the Phantom? We know that he’s taken her. Surely it would help in the search if everyone knew that.”

“Christine ran away from you last night, after you had rescued her from the Phantom,” she answered, somewhat harshly. “So we cannot say for certain that he has her. If we told everyone that the Phantom had her, they would start looking for evidence of the Phantom’s existence, not clues as to where Christine has gone. We could miss something very important if that occurred. The other matter to consider is that half the people who work in this theatre are terrified of him. If you start saying that we need their help searching for clues that the Phantom had kidnapped her many of the dancers would be too scared to help. That is why I didn’t tell them.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” He said begrudgingly. “You don’t object to me telling the authorities I presume?”

“Of course not.”

“Robert?” Meg asked, seeing that one of the stagehands was hovering nearby.

The stagehand visibly gulped when Madame Giry and the Vicomte turned their attention to him. “Umm, the stagehands have been talking and we want to say first that we’re very sorry about what’s happened with Mademoiselle Daae. But we won’t go down into the cellars, not the lower levels, not after what happened to Buquet.” He finished quickly.

“Would you prefer to search the rehearsal rooms and I can send my young dancers down into the cellars?” Madame Giry asked acerbically.

“Oh no Madame.” Robert said, taking her suggestion seriously.

“You seemed to have no issues in descending to the lowest levels of the cellars last night.” Raoul pointed out.

“That was different Monsieur le Vicomte,” he stuttered, “We didn’t...I didn’t...”

“That’s alright Robert,” Meg said, ending the poor stagehand’s suffering, “The Vicomte and I will search the lowest levels if the stagehands can search the first three.”

Recognising that this was going to be the best offer the stagehands would receive Robert quickly agreed before virtually running back the rest of the stagehands. 

“Are you sure that is wise Meg?” Madame Giry asked worriedly. Although she knew that her daughter had been down into the cellars the night before it wasn’t an event that she wanted repeated. As she had warned the Vicomte when he went down to find Christine, she was aware of the dangers that were present and didn’t want anyone to be unnecessarily exposed to them, least of all her daughter. . 

“I’m sure Maman. We know that that is where we’re most likely to find any clues about Christine so we have to search there. If the stagehands are too scared to go then they wouldn’t do a very good job, even if we did force them. I know how to get down there and we’ll be careful. But we have to do this Maman, for Christine.” Meg explained. 

Meg hurried to her room to change into something more appropriate for climbing through the cellars whilst Raoul waited impatiently in the corridor. He ignored her unconventional attire and started to lead her down into the cellars. He found that he was starting to remember the route that Meg had taken and swiftly led her down past the first three levels that the stagehands were going to be searching through.

“When you don’t have ballet rats whispering ghost stories behind your back these cellars aren’t quite so frightening.” Meg commented trying to break the awkward silence.

“I think they will always be frightening, no matter how many times I have to come down here.” Raoul said in a moment of absolute honesty.

“Oh! I’m so sorry Vicomte, I didn’t mean...” Meg was horrified at her blunder. The Vicomte had come face to face with the Phantom and lost Christine in these cellars, it was only natural that he would fear them.

“It doesn’t matter.” He said, stopping to search through some boxes that looked like they had been recently disturbed. 

Meg decided it was wiser not to say anything as they slowly worked their way down to the lowest level of the cellar. Like before she could feel herself getting colder with each level but the musty smell that permeated the air was starting to become familiar. It was clear that there was very little in the lower levels of the opera house that had been touched in many years but it was still time consuming as they had to search every room and corridor that they could find. She could feel the tension building as they got closer to the bottom, both knowing that the Phantom’s lair was where they were most likely to find any clue as to where Christine had gone. 

The damage was just as bad as Meg remembered. Broken pieces of furniture lay scattered across the floor; the sheet music that had previously been stacked in piles on every surface available was now strewn across the floor, torn by careless feet walking over it. Looking down Meg spied the remains of Christine’s Aminta costume, no longer neatly folded, under an upturned chair.

“I’ll start looking through these papers,” Raoul decided crouching down and running his fingers across the papers, “Maybe he wrote some of his plans down.”

“Do you really believe that he would have written such a thing down?” Meg asked.

“Yes, maybe. Although I doubt he would have left it to be so easily discovered. Still I must try.” He said, leaning forward to gather the papers into a more manageable pile. 

Meg decided to leave the Vicomte with the papers and started to walk around the perimeter of the lair. Close to where they had entered she discovered two doors. “Vicomte,” she called out, “I’m going to search in here.”

Raoul grunted a response, too engrossed in the papers to pay attention to what Meg was saying. Sighing under her breath, she opened the first door and nearly screamed. 

Sitting in the middle of the room, on a stone dais sat a black coffin. Although her heart was racing she immediately began to calm down for she could see from the doorway that the coffin was empty. She tried not to think about the type of man that would keep a coffin in his home as she slowly crept in. Telling herself that it was just a wooden box and that it was nothing to be afraid of, she started to search the room, albeit trying to keep an eye on the coffin at the same time. If it hadn’t been for the coffin she would have said that the room was a man’s bedroom. There was a wardrobe filled with evening wear and a small table with a water bowl and jug for bathing. She left the coffin until last, knowing that she had to search it, but not wanting to touch it. When she could delay no longer she was quick, trying to touch as little as possible, uncaring that she was leaving a mess but knowing that it was the most likely location in the room for any clues to be found. 

When she was finished she firmly pulled the door shut behind her. She was going to tell the Vicomte that she had not discovered anything of value, but seeing that he was still immersed in the papers, she decided not to and moved to the next room. Praying that the second room was not going to be as morbid as the first, she nonetheless steeled herself before opening the door.

Meg could not have imagined a room more different to the first one. Whilst the first room was dark and hard, with stone and black, this was warm and inviting, with soft furnishings and warm coloured wood. Although they were many levels underground Meg could almost imagine sunlight streaming into the room. The bed in the middle of the room was unmade, as though someone had just arisen. Glancing through the wardrobe Meg discovered that it was filled with beautiful gowns for every occasion, gowns that appeared very expensive. There was a small desk with a variety of items scattered across it. There was more sheet music, in the same distinctive handwriting as that in the main room. She ran her fingers across a hair brush and a small bottle of perfume. This room was more than simply for display; a woman had lived here for a time. She stopped when she saw a familiar looking ribbon. Picking it up she remembered that this was a ribbon of Christine’s that she had often borrowed. Thinking back Meg realised that she hadn’t seen the ribbon in weeks. 

Had Christine been the woman living down here? Was it possible that she had been coming down to the Phantom’s lair for weeks, voluntarily? Meg couldn’t believe that Christine could do such a thing and not tell her. After all the stories she had heard of the Phantom growing up and the events of the past twenty four hours she could scarcely believe that Christine could do such a thing. There had to be another explanation. Even if Christine had been down here in the past it didn’t necessarily mean that she had run away with the Phantom. She just needed more time to think about the situation. When she was able to think about things more clearly then she would find that there was another explanation. Once she was able to think about this rationally, then she would tell the Vicomte. There was nothing in either room that indicated where Christine had gone and to tell the Vicomte of her suspicions now would only cause him unnecessary heartache. For the moment at least, she would keep her discoveries to herself.

“Did you find anything?” the Vicomte asked as she exited the bedroom.

“What? Uh, no, nothing that helps us.” Meg replied, pulling the door shut behind her. “Did you?”

“No. If he wrote anything down he took it with him, or it was destroyed by the mob. Of course he wouldn’t make it easy.” He said, viciously kicking at the broken leg of a chair. Meg watched as it skittered across the floor.

“There’s nothing here.” She said walking back to the hidden door. “We should go.”

Raoul didn’t protest this time as she led him back up to the theatre.


	6. Family Matters

“Good afternoon Inspector Thierry.” Raoul said wearily as he was led to the inspector’s desk by one of the junior officers. The search of the theatre had lasted well into the afternoon but had yielded no evidence of Christine or her whereabouts. By the time they had emerged from the cellars he had expected that the Sûreté would have arrived at the theatre however there was no sign of them. Madame Giry had told him that the dancers, especially the youngest rats, had soon grown tired of searching and had not been very thorough. He felt that the only area that had been properly searched was the lowest levels of the cellars where he and Mademoiselle Giry had been and that he would need to go over the areas that the employees of the Opera Populaire had claimed to have searched. In the meantime he hoped that the Sûreté were ready to start their search of the theatre and would find anything that had been overlooked.

“Good afternoon Vicomte,” the inspector greeted, pushing aside the papers that he had been reading. “I wasn’t excepting to see you so soon. You only filed your report this morning.”

“I wanted to know what progress has been made so far, whether you have any leads on where Mademoiselle Daae has been taken.” He asked, leading forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

“Leads?” Inspector Thierry repeated, “Vicomte you only informed us that Mademoiselle Daae was missing this morning.”

“Yes. That was hours ago, surely your men have been able to discover something,” the Vicomte said, perplexed by the man’s reaction. Certainly all the men working on Christine’s case would have discovered something by this stage. 

Inspector Thierry began to realise just how seriously the young noble was expecting them to take the disappearance of a singer and he suddenly felt very foolish for not seeing it earlier when the Vicomte had first come to make the report. The young lady was obviously very important to the Vicomte and he had expected them to drop all their other investigations in order to focus on Mademoiselle Daae’s disappearance. “Vicomte,” he began carefully, “I haven’t assigned an inspector to Mademoiselle Daae’s case yet.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to. I assumed that as the senior inspector here you would automatically be leading the investigation. But surely your men discovered something this morning.” He pleaded.

Inspector Thierry suppressed a sigh. “There has been no work on the case yet.” He said, bracing himself for the inevitable outburst.

“Nothing?” Raoul said incredulously, “I informed you of Mademoiselle Daae’s disappearance hours ago. I expected every one of your men ready to search the Opera Populaire this evening. What on earth is the problem?” he said, getting louder.

“This is a very busy office Monsieur le Vicomte,” the inspector explained, “We constantly have dozens of open cases and new ones arrive on my desk every day. I simply can’t afford to devote all of my men and resources to searching for a single person.”

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough earlier. Christine, Mademoiselle Daae,” he corrected himself, “Is most likely in the hands of a crazed murderer. One that your men were not able to apprehend last night. He wants to force her to marry him. Surely I don’t need to explain to you what that could mean for her. We need to find her immediately. We can’t afford to waste a single moment.”

“I have been investigating disappearances for twenty years. I know how terrible it is for a person’s loved ones when they have no idea where they are or whether they’re safe. But I cannot afford to give Mademoiselle Daae’s case any special attention and I am not willing to tell other families that their investigations are being put on hold.” Inspector Thierry said firmly. Whilst he was certainly sympathetic to the Vicomte’s position he was just as sympathetic to every other person who came into his office with a loved one missing. 

“Inspector I am well aware of instances where your colleagues have given cases special attention when they have involved the interests of the nobility.” Raoul said coolly, hoping that if the inspector was forced to admit to previous instances then he would have the leverage he needed to push for extra attention for Christine’s case.

“There have been cases where my superiors have ordered my colleagues to pay close attention to a particular case,” he said gritting his teeth. He hated the times where he had been ordered to put one case ahead of another simply because the nobility were involved, “However those have been cases involving the murders of family members, not the potential abduction of a mistress. And they haven’t done so on the order of a mere Vicomte.”

Before Raoul was able to respond to the inspector’s outrageous comments he held up his hands in a placating gesture, “I apologise for my comments. However I will not make the order to put Mademoiselle Daae’s case ahead of anyone else’s.”

“When do you intend to start investigating the disappearance of a young lady who has most likely been kidnapped by a madman?” Raoul asked, feigning politeness.

Ignoring the Vicomte’s tone, Inspector Thierry explained, “I’m hoping that I will be able to send a man to the theatre first thing in the morning.”

“The morning? More than 36 hours after she disappears. He could have taken her anywhere by then!” Raoul exclaimed.

However the inspector was resolute in his decision. “I’m sorry, but it’s the best I can do.”

“Well then you leave me no choice but to take this to your superiors,” Raoul said, standing up and knocking the chair back. “Next time I see you I want to see results,” he snarled before storming out. He was absolutely appalled at the lack of effort that had gone into Christine’s case. What could possibly be more important than a missing woman? Any of the hope he had had this morning after filing the report was gone and he felt like he could scream with the frustration of not knowing where Christine was, or whether she was safe.

* * *

“Philippe, Philippe?” Raoul shouted as he made his way through the parlour, dropping his hat and coat into the arms of the waiting valet. “Philippe? Where are you?” he continued shouting as he ran up the stairs two at a time.

“I’m in here,” Philippe said irritably, sticking his head out of his study door, “What on earth is the matter? You’re lucky Mother isn’t here to hear you bellowing like that.”

“I need your help.” Raoul announced, pushing past his brother into his study and walked straight to the sideboard where he poured himself a large brandy.

“With what?” Philippe asked watching him down the brandy.

“Christine.”

“Ahh. She’s still missing then?” Philippe questioned, walking back to his desk.

“How did you know she was missing?” Raoul had only been home to attempt to sleep for a few hours since Christine had disappeared and he hadn’t seen Philippe then or had a chance to explain what had happened.

“There have been rumours...” he began, “But one of the servants mentioned this morning that you were going to the authorities to report Mademoiselle Daae missing.”

“For all the good it has done. The authorities have been absolutely useless.” Raoul fumed.

“How so?”

“I told them that Christine was missing first thing this morning and they had the nerve to tell me that they had not done anything to find her when I went there this afternoon. The inspector says that he will send one man to the theatre tomorrow.” He emphasised, “It’s absolutely outrageous.”

“You would think that they would be slightly more concerned about a missing young woman.” Philippe agreed.

“I need you to tell them that.” Raoul said taking a seat on the opposite side of the desk.

“Raoul, I don’t know...”

“I told the inspector how important it was that Christine be found as quickly as possible and that I knew the authorities could put extra effort into special cases. But he said that he wasn’t going to give special treatment to the case of a missing woman on the say so of a Vicomte. Indeed, he actually had the nerve to call her my mistress, after I had specifically told him this morning that she was my fiancée.” Raoul said indignantly.

“Well she wasn’t officially your fiancée,” Philippe added cautiously, “You hadn’t even spoken to Mother about her yet.”

“That is hardly the point Philippe,” Raoul said rubbing at his temples, “You know the Chief of the Sûreté. I need you to ask him to take a special interest in Christine’s case, so that something is actually done.”

“Actually it is the point. As far as society is concerned Christine was not your fiancée, regardless of what private arrangements you may have had in place. As far as the rest of the world is concerned she is simply an opera singer. And the de Chagny name cannot become associated with a missing opera singer. Any more than it already is at any rate.”

“So I’ll make an official announcement that we are to be married.” Raoul tried to reason. “Surely the de Chagny name can be associated with a missing fiancée?” 

“If she had been officially your fiancée before she went missing. If you make an announcement now, after she has gone missing and when Mother isn’t even in the country, it’s going to be obvious what everyone will think. Nobody will believe that she is your fiancée, merely a mistress that you’re excessively fond of.” Philippe explained.

“What they will say?” Raoul challenged, “Surely some narrow minded gossip is a small price to pay for ensuring Christine’s safety.”

“Raoul,” Philippe sighed, “I know that you are fond of Christine...”

“I’m in love with her. Do you think I would be asking you to do this if I were merely fond of her?” he cried.

Philippe didn’t correct himself but continued, “And that it is difficult having to cope with her disappearance but I’m afraid that I cannot use the de Chagny name to ask that the Sûreté take a special interest in her case. You will have to use the normal procedures.” 

“Philippe!” Raoul exclaimed, “I thought that you would be more understanding.”

“I need to look at this from everyone’s perspective, not just your’s. We can’t have our name associated too closely with any scandals at the opera house. I’m having enough trouble keeping your name out of the stories of last night. Can you even imagine how Father would have react if he had heard that we had used the family name to assist in the investigation of a missing opera singer, even if you had announced her to be your fiancée?”

“Surely we’ve done more scandalous things in the past than assist in the search for a missing woman,” Raoul tried to argue, “And I’ll write to Mother before she comes home, so she knows what to expect.”

“Raoul there is something else that needs to be considered here,” Philippe took a deep breath, “The performance last night.”

“What about it?” he asked irritably.

“Everyone in Paris has heard about it. That Christine allowed the man on stage to take rather excessive liberties with her. People are saying that two people could only act that way if they were lovers off the stage as well as on.”

“Not you too Philippe.” Raoul groaned, “That man was the Phantom. Christine was not his lover. He has this power over her when he sings, it’s almost as though she goes into a trance. But afterwards...when we were down there, she was terrified of him.”

Philippe looked across the table to his brother. He looked so distraught at the thought of Christine being with this Phantom that he decided not to say anything further. “Well maybe she needed to leave for some other reason. Perhaps she realised that a marriage between you was never going to work and wanted to avoid the embarrassment of a broken engagement.”

“No.” Raoul slammed his fist down on the desk. “Christine isn’t like that. She knows that after everything that has happened I would be out of my mind with worry if she just disappeared. She wouldn’t do that to me.”

The two brothers sat in silence for a few moments. Philippe didn’t know what more he could say. It was certainly upsetting that Christine was gone; he could remember her playing with Raoul when they were children and she had been a sweet child who had made him smile. But they were no longer children for whom social class was irrelevant and he needed to ensure that the de Chagny family was not involved in any unnecessary scandal. A personal request to the Chief of the Sûreté that the disappearance of an opera singer be investigated would be far too public.

“So that’s it then?” Raoul leaned forward, scrubbing at his face.

“I’m sorry,” Philippe said sincerely, “If there is something less public that I could do to help I will.”

“Christine has been abducted.” Raoul emphasised, standing up, “This is not the time for being discreet.”

With that he turned and walked out of the study, trying very hard not to slam the door behind him. He knew that Christine would not want him to alienate his brother in his attempts to find her. He walked further down the hall and entering a rarely used sitting room and allowed himself to collapse into one of the plush leather armchairs.

He was going to have to do this himself, he realised. Whilst he knew that the Sûreté wouldn’t entirely ignore Christine’s disappearance, he also knew that they wouldn’t put as much effort into it as they should or could. Christine deserved to have every effort made for her, yet people seemed to be willing to pay little attention to her simply because she was a singer and it was almost expected that she would run off with a lover. He wanted to start a family with Christine, and yet his own family weren’t willing to assist for fear of how it would impact their reputation he reflected bitterly. Even the people at the theatre didn’t seem to care that Christine had gone missing, for he had realised earlier in the day that people had only participated in the search for Christine because they had nothing else to do. He didn’t understand how they could not care that a woman who lived and worked amongst them had disappeared. It seemed that only Meg Giry, and her mother, were concerned about Christine’s disappearance and willing to help him search for her.

It didn’t matter. Even if no one else cared he would find Christine on his own, regardless of the cost. From now on this would be his only concern, let Philippe handle the family business. He wouldn’t stop until he knew that the woman he loved was safe. “I promise.” He vowed in a whisper, hoping that wherever she was, Christine knew how much he loved her and that he was doing everything he could for her.


	7. The Only Ones

As he had told the Vicomte, Inspector Thierry had been able to send an inspector to the Opera Populaire the next day. Inspector Michel was young and a naturally shy man, who was obviously intimidated upon first meeting with the Vicomte and Messieurs Andre and Firmin who wanted him to do everything necessary to find Christine and not to anything to draw further attention to the theatre respectively. Despite this he genuinely wanted to find Christine and had stood his ground when Raoul had tried to send him back to Inspector Thierry, saying that he wanted someone with experience. The young inspector had explained that he had worked with the Sûreté for the past eight years and that he had been involved in solving dozens of cases. He had also explained that if the Vicomte refused to cooperate with him, Inspector Thierry was extremely unlikely to send anyone else.

Meg had been watching the confrontation between the Vicomte, the managers and the inspector from a balcony above the foyer and had silently cheered the inspector on. She felt that Inspector Michel would do everything he could to find Christine, not because it was his job, but because he genuinely wanted to see Christine returned home safely.

After Raoul explained that they had already searched the theatre for any signs of Christine the inspector had thanked him and conducted his own more focused search. Once he had briefly questioned the Vicomte, the managers, Meg and her mother, the performers from that night and anyone else that Christine was close to he had conducted his own search. He spent a good part of the afternoon searching and once Meg had finished her lessons for the afternoon she started discreetly following him, watching him as he conducted his search. Raoul was less discrete, constantly questioning Inspector Michel and challenging his methods. From their conversation Meg learned what sort of evidence the inspector was looking for and that there were methods to searching a room so that nothing was missed. 

Whilst he didn’t have much time Inspector Michel tried to talk to as many people as possible in the theatre. As Meg was ushering the youngest ballet rats to their dormitory to get settled for the night he had approached her and asked if he could talk to the girls. Although Meg was reluctant to have the girls caught up in the matter, she had agreed on the off chance that one of them might have seen something that would help.

When the day drew to a close Inspector Michel gathered the Vicomte and the managers in Monsieur Andre’s office. He regretted to inform that that he had not been able to find any evidence in the theatre as to where Mademoiselle Daae had gone. It gave Raoul some small comfort to know that it was unlikely that Christine had been physically harmed in the theatre. The inspector promised that this would not be the end of the investigation and that in the next few days he would start searching for witnesses in the streets surrounding the theatre. 

Initially Inspector Michel was coming to the theatre or the de Chagny estate to inform the Vicomte of his progress every few days, but it very quickly dropped back to once a week. There were only so many times he could tell the Vicomte that there was no news or no evidence and that no one had seen Christine on the night on Don Juan Triumphant after she was taken from the stage, or any night since. She had simply vanished. Although from what the inspector had been told he didn’t believe that Christine was the kind of young woman who would run away, there was no evidence one way or the other. 

Rather than deterring the Vicomte however, the lack of news only fuelled his desire to find Christine. He was now convinced that the Sûreté were incompetent and that he was the only who was capable of finding her and thus dedicated his days to it. Much to Philippe’s despair Raoul started to entirely neglect his family obligations as he spent all day either in the theatre or the surrounding areas. Despite the searches conducted by both the people who worked at the Opera Populaire and the inspector he still repeatedly combed over every inch of the theatre, hoping that there would be something that they missed.

Although the managers still hadn’t decided what they were going to perform next, hoping that the gossip and rumours surrounding that night would die down, Madame Giry still ensured that her dancers would be ready, holding practise sessions twice a day for all the dancers. As well as her own rehearsals, Madame Giry had placed Meg in charge of the newest rats and she was required to take them to their lessons as well as providing extra assistance with their dancing. Although this did not leave Meg with much time to spare she tried to help the Vicomte with his search whenever possible.

All too quickly the residents of the Opera seemed to move on from the fact that Christine was still missing. Although there was endless gossip about the night she went missing and the Phantom it seemed to be forgotten that one of their own had vanished that night. The ballet rats who had been friends with Christine would remember her every now and then, but except for Meg, none of them assisted the Vicomte in his search. 

Whilst Meg knew that there was nothing to find in the theatre she persisted in helping the Vicomte. The Sûreté, whilst not having officially closed Christine’s case, nonetheless had cease communications with the Vicomte and it seemed that the search was gradually dying. Meg felt that if she stopped searching the little attention that was being paid to the matter would drift from Christine’s disappearance to the obsessive Vicomte. By assisting with the search Meg felt that she was making sure that people still remembered that Christine was missing.

So every day during the lunch hour Meg would race down to the kitchens to grab whatever she could eat whilst standing and rush off to meet Raoul. Every afternoon she would madly dash back to collect the young rats and escort them to their lessons before they were all scolded for being late. Once she had let them loose to play in the late afternoon she would return to the Vicomte, searching until she was required at supper. After guiding the girls through the nightly routine and making sure they were all tucked in, Meg would collapse into her own bed, ready to start again the next morning.

Naturally there was gossip regarding Meg spending all of her free time with the Vicomte but, especially for the Populaire, the gossip was mild. There was the odd comment every now and then, but rarely was anything said in front of Meg and every more rare were the comments within earshot of Madame Giry. It seemed that whilst the interest in Christine’s disappearance had waned, everyone was still aware that it was very much at the forefront of her best friend’s mind. 

Not long after Inspector Michel commenced his investigation Raoul started searching the streets around the opera. He quickly learned however that the people who lived and worked in those streets could spot a nobleman from miles away and would demand a coin simply for talking to him. At first he tried to refuse until he found that the few who would assist without payment did not know anything, although they did seem to genuinely want to help. Like the inspector however, he was only able to talk to so many people and he knew that if anyone had seen Christine the chances of him finding them were incredibly low at the speed he was going. 

Raoul decided that as the Sûreté was not going to supply the men that were desperately needed to search for Christine he would hire his own men. Not only would this enable him to search more quickly for Christine he also felt that any possible witnesses were more likely to talk to a person from their own class, rather than a nobleman. He was eager to send his men out as quickly as possible and hired the first men that applied, although none of them had any investigative experience.

Meg could see the difference in the Vicomte once he had set his men to work. His focus on finding Christine didn’t waver and it was obvious that he believed more than ever that he would find her. So when Raoul told Meg that he wanted to go back into the Phantom’s lair she knew that now was the time to tell him about the bedroom that had been Christine’s. 

She had spent hours thinking about the beautiful bedroom and whether she should tell the Vicomte about it. She knew what the implications of the bedroom were and hadn’t been sure that he was ready to face them. But as he continued to search the theatre Meg knew that eventually he would find the room and she felt that it was best that he heard about it before he saw it. 

They were searching in Box Five, which they no longer had any fear of having searched it numerous times, when Meg decided to tell him. The stage and the auditorium were empty, so there was little chance of anyone seeing them if he did happen to react badly and the Vicomte was in as close to a good mood as Meg had seen him since Christine had disappeared. She hated to ruin it, but there wasn’t going to be a better time to tell him.

“Monsieur?” she asked tentatively.

“Hmm?” he murmured distractedly, intently studying the plaster cornice that ran just below the ceiling of the box. 

“Vicomte,” she said, placing a hand on his arm to draw his attention away from the ceiling, “Can we sit please, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

He glanced back, trying to memorise the spot he was up to, before taking a seat next to Meg.

“It’s about the cellars, his lair.” Meg started.

“Oh good. I had been meaning to ask you about that.” He said, “I want to go down there again but we need to spend more time there. I think we should go on a Sunday, when you don’t have to look after your girls.”

“I suppose so,” Meg said. With Sunday only being a few days away she knew that there was no getting around telling him now. If he wanted to do a more thorough search of the lair then she had to tell him what she had seen. “But there’s something I need to tell you about it.”

“I’m sorry, I interrupted you,” the Vicomte realised.

Meg gave a tight smile of acknowledge, “There’s something about the cellars that I haven’t told you....”

“Yes...” he urged.

“When you were searching the main part of the lair I searched the two rooms near that back entrance.” She explained.

“You said there was nothing there.” He said slowly, picking up on the nervousness in Meg’s voice.

Without specifically responding to his statement, she continued, “The first room was his bedroom. It was disturbing but there was nothing in there that could help. The second room was another bedroom. A woman’s bedroom.” She clarified.

“I don’t understand, why would there be a woman’s bedroom there?” He didn’t like where this was leading and desperately hoped that she was going to give another explanation.

“There were items in the bedroom that I had never seen before, but there were also items that were familiar. They belonged to Christine. I should have told you sooner but I didn’t think you would have wanted to know when it happened, because of what it could mean. But you do need to think about it now.” Meg confessed.

“That doesn’t mean anything. He was obsessed with her. He probably stole those items as part of his sick fantasy.” He rationalised. “And how can you even be sure that they were her items, they could have belonged to anyone.”

“I recognised the items Vicomte, some of them were Christine’s favourites and I’ve borrowed them before. If he had simply taken them Christine would have been looking for them, she would have asked me if I had borrowed them. And the bedroom had been used.” At his horrified look she hastily corrected herself, “Not like that,” she stammered, blushing ferociously. “But the dresses had been worn; there were hairbrushes that I didn’t recognise that had been used. The room was lived in.” She finished.

“So maybe she had been down there in the past. That doesn’t mean that she went back, not after what happened. It doesn’t mean anything.” He argued.

“But you can’t ignore it.” Meg pleaded.

“No. You must be exaggerating. Maybe it was the stress of those first few days playing tricks on your mind. We’ll go back down and you’ll see that things aren’t the way you claim.” He said, jumping to his feet and rushing to the door.

“No, Vicomte, wait!” Meg cried out, chasing after him. He needed time to get used to the idea before being confronted with it in reality. Then when he was calmer they could go back down.

The hours of searching the theatre had obviously paid off, as the Vicomte duck through small rooms and into hidden passageways that a person who didn’t work in the theatre wouldn’t have normally known of and Meg struggled to keep sight of him. She finally caught up when he stopped upon coming across a group of drunks. Meg immediately recognised some of the men as stagehands but the rest were strangers and they didn’t look like men she particularly wanted to meet. 

“What are you doing here?” the Vicomte demanded.

“Ah, Monsieur le Vicomte,” one man said, struggling to his feet. The stench of alcohol wafted off him and it was obvious that he had been drinking for hours. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Why are you here? Why aren’t you searching for anyone who might have seen Mademoiselle Daae?” he challenged. Meg realised that these must have been the men that the Vicomte had hired to search for witnesses after he gave up on the Sûreté. She couldn’t imagine what he had been thinking when he had employed them for not a one of them looked remotely trustworthy and had probably never done a honest day’s work in their life. She knew for a fact that the stagehands could barely be relied upon to do their jobs. 

“Oh but we are Monsieur le Vicomte,” the self appointed leader said, “We’re just taking a small rest and then we will start working again.” He promised.

“What are you talking about?” an older stagehand said, “You’ve been here since breakfast.”

“And all day yesterday.” Another stagehand added, earning himself a cuff across the head.

“Have you done any work?” the Vicomte yelled, causing one of the men who was almost asleep to awaken with a jerk.

“Well...of course...” the first man slurred.

The older stagehand spoke up again, “You’ve been coming here for weeks now. Supplying some very nice liquor to share with everyone as well.” 

The Vicomte’s face started turning red with anger. “For weeks you have been taking the wages I am paying you to search for Mademoiselle Daae, used them to purchased liquor and spent your days getting drunk down here?”

Some of the younger men had the decency to look slightly ashamed but most of them were too drunk to care.

“You are fired, every one of you. And I don’t ever want to see you near this theatre again!” he roared, viciously kicking a bottle, sending it smashing against a wall.

The sound of breaking glass seemed to rouse the group and they all scrambled to get away from the furious Vicomte as quickly as possible. 

Meg pushed herself up against a wall as the men passed and watched as the Vicomte continued to stand in the middle of the corridor, his shoulders heaving as he took deep, shuddering breaths.

“Nobody cares.” He whispered.

“That’s not true.” Meg replied softly. “You care. And I care and Maman cares.”

He walked over to the wall and slide down to sit where the drunks had just vacated. After a moment Meg sat down beside him.

“The bedroom. Are you sure that Christine spent time there?” he said brokenly.

“Yes.” Meg admitted, “But that doesn’t mean that she ran away with him or that any of the gossip is true. I just think that you need to remember that they did have a relationship of sorts. Maybe remembering that will help us find other clues.”

“We should go there, see what we can find.” He said, making a move to stand.

“No, not today. Too much has happened.” Meg said, thinking that the Vicomte was on the very edge and anything else was liable to send him over. “On Sunday, like you said, we’ll look then.” She promised.

“Alright,” the Vicomte agreed, tipping his head back against the wall and sighing. His sigh seemed to echo through the corridor as they sat there, thinking about where they were going to go from here and what today meant for the search for Christine.


	8. Realisations

_ Two weeks later _

She was calling out to him, but he couldn’t figure out where her voice was coming from. 

“Raoul! Raoul, where are you? Please!” she cried out desperately.

He had to find her but everywhere he looked there was no sign of her. She was close, he knew that. There weren’t any rooms nearby that she could be trapped, so she had to be here but why couldn’t he find her?

“Help me Raoul!” she called out again.

Frantically scouring the room for any sign of Christine he caught sight of the lake. As he stared at the dark body of water he thought that he could see ripples being created from beneath the surface.

Whilst Christine called out to him again, begging him to help, he raced towards the lake, discarding his jacket and boots before diving in.

The water was painfully cold and it felt like there were knives cutting into his face. But he ignored his body’s instinct to escape from the water and swam further out to where he had seen the ripples.

He dived under the surface, forcing his eyes open even though the water was almost black and he couldn’t see more than a few inches ahead. Every way he turned he could see nothing but darkness, there was no sign of Christine. His lungs started to burn and he kicked himself to the surface to take a deep breath before diving back under.

Even under the water, he could still hear Christine calling out to him and he pushed himself even harder, trying to cover more ground before he was forced to the surface again. 

Suddenly she was in front of him, arms reaching out as she pleaded with him to help her. His treacherous lungs once again reminded him of the need for oxygen and he frantically kicked to the surface before heading straight back down.

In the freezing black water Christine’s hands were still warm when he grabbed on to her. She wrapped her other hand around his wrist and with his free hand he tried to pull them through the water to the surface. But there was something keeping them down there, no matter how hard Raoul pulled. He let go and raced to the surface for air as Christine continued to call out to him.

There was something holding her down there he realised as he swam back to her. He got closer this time, swimming around her legs trying to see whether she was caught or stuck. But as he got closer the water got darker, and whilst he could sense how close he was to her he couldn’t see anything. He ran his hands blindly across the bottom of the lake and around her ankles but he couldn’t feel anything that would be trapping her.

He returned to the surface again and this time it seemed to take longer to get back down to her. Once again he grabbed hold of Christine and tried desperately to pull her to the surface but she just wouldn’t move. Again and again he repeated this, swimming to the surface for air before having to venture that bit deeper to reach her and try to pull her up. Each time he went down he was able to spend less time trying to free her, the swim down using up precious time. 

Whilst her voice was strong Raoul knew that Christine was running out of time. She clung to him as he tried to return to the surface, begging him not to leave her. She knew what was to come for the next time he swam down to her he couldn’t see her. He swam deeper and deeper as she cried out for him but she wasn’t there any longer. Running out of air before he was able to find her he kicked to the surface.

“Christine!” he shouted, awaking with a jerk, his face half buried in his pillow as his lungs struggled to get enough air. 

Panting, he sat up in bed and rubbed his face, trying to erase the memory of the freezing water and Christine’s desperate cries. Climbing out of bed he walked over to the fireplace, absently poking at the dying embers of the fire.

For all the time that he and Mademoiselle Giry had spent down in the Phantom’s lair they had paid very little attention to the lake, beyond walking by the edge looking for anything that Christine or that monster could have dropped. But then all of this time they had been working on the assumption that Christine was alive. But what if she wasn’t? Raoul almost cried out at the thought of Christine’s body being trapped at the bottom of the dark lake.

The more that he thought about it the more Raoul realised that this scenario made sense. Christine had rejected the Phantom and chosen to leave with him. He knew that the Phantom was a madman, he would kill a person if they disobeyed him and he would obviously have viewed Christine’s actions as a betrayal.

Raoul collapsed in front of the fire, tears running down his cheeks as he realised that Christine was dead. All the time he had spend searching for her was a waste, as her body lay beneath the opera house. Had there ever been a chance, he wondered. If he had searched harder if those first few hours or first few days would he have found her? Should he have forced Messieurs Firmin and Andre to allow their employees to search for Christine the night that she disappeared? Perhaps he never had a hope and she was dead the moment she ran away from him. Unless they found the Phantom they would never know. Even then Raoul doubted that the creature would ever divulge his secrets.

All that he could do for Christine now was to find her body and give her a proper burial next to her father. Tomorrow he would arrange for the lake to be drained. He knew that he would never be able to forgive himself for this, he had failed her. As he drifted off into a fitful sleep in front of the fire, he tried to convince himself that Christine was with her father now and that she would be happy.

* * *

Raoul was awake when the sun rose the next morning, thoughts from the night before still racing through his mind. Christine was dead. That was why he hadn’t been able to find any sign of her in all the weeks that he had been searching. He was probably the last person who had seen her alive he thought miserably. If only he had been able to catch her before she had slipped away from him, this would never have happened. Or if he had forced her back to the theatre sooner, not stopping to rest and giving the Phantom time to catch up to them.

He quietly stole through the house eager to avoid servants who might delay him by trying to push food into him or his brother who would demand to know where he was going at this hour of the morning. He saddled his horse, Orion, and quickly escaped the property, pushing the animal to reach the theatre in record time.

Whilst the Vicomte’s world was still sleeping the Opera Populaire was already a hive of activity. Like a man possessed he ran through the theatre looking for the managers. He knew that it was not going to be easy to convince the two men, especially Monsieur Firmin, to conduct a proper search but he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. All he needed was to be allowed to take men into the cellars; he would arrange the men, the equipment and cover all the expenses. But Christine had been down there for too long already and they couldn’t waste another day. 

He was so intent on tracking down the managers that he didn’t notice Meg and Madame Giry until he literally ran into Meg. His hands automatically reached for her waist to steady them both. 

“Vicomte, what’s happened?’ Meg gasped; certain that his mad dash through the theatre meant that he had found something that would lead them to Christine.

“Is it Christine? Have you found her?” Madame Giry asked anxiously. 

“No, well yes, maybe. I don’t know yet. That’s why I’m here I have to see the managers so we can start searching.” He said, still frantically scanning the room for any sign of the men. Thinking that he might find them in their offices he was about to dart off when Madame Giry wrapped a hand around his elbow.

“Start searching where?” she asked.

“Here, in the theatre.” He explained.

“But we’ve looked everywhere in the theatre,’ Meg said, her nose crinkling in confusion, “She’s not here.”

“The lake. We never looked in the lake.” He said impatiently.

Looks of horror appeared on the faces on both Giry women as they realised what he was thinking. He cursed himself for not having broken the news more gently to the two people Christine had considered family at the theatre, the only people who had really helped him. Mademoiselle Giry, and her mother, deserved better from him. 

“No,” Meg whispered, “Christine, she couldn’t be...” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. 

“It explains why we haven’t been able to find her, why no-one has seen her since that night. Christine is dead and the Phantom probably thought that the lake was the perfect place to hide her body. He would never have expected anyone to go down there, not after his reign of terror over the theatre.” He explained with brutal honesty, unable to stop himself.

“You shouldn’t say such things!” Meg cried, “Not unless you know for sure. You can’t say that Christine is dead,” she continued, lowering her voice so they didn’t cause a bigger scene than the Vicomte already had, “And to say that he left her body in the lake. It’s too horrible.”

“What other explanation is there?” the Vicomte asked irrationally, his dream from the night before still haunting him.

Composing herself, Madame Giry interrupted, “What proof do you have?”

“Well nothing, yet. But that’s why I need to find the managers, so I can arrange to take a group of men down into the cellars so we can conduct a proper search of the lake. Then we will know.” He said, not understanding why she wouldn’t want to know.

“Why would he kill her?” she pushed.

“We know that he’s killed before, when things don’t go the way that he planned. Christine rejected him, she left that cellar with me. He believed that she had betrayed him...”

“Perhaps,” Madame Giry interrupted, “But it is absurd to suggest that he would kill her. He would never have harmed her, he loved her.”

“Whatever feelings that thing had for Christine, it was not love.” Raoul spat, “You didn’t see him that night, he was insane. He was going to kill me and he could easily have turned on Christine. He did turn on her, forcing her into that wedding dress and dragging her across the floor. Making her choose between marrying him and my life.”

“I saw him on the stage, I know that he was furious.” She replied, “But I do not believe that he would have harmed her, not in the way that you are suggesting.”

“Why do you defend him?” he asked suspiciously.

Sensing that this could easily lead to more accusations and disputes between the Vicomte and her mother, Meg interjected to address the Vicomte, “If you are right, and Christine is in the lake, perhaps we shouldn’t disturb her resting place.” As she said it she knew that it was a weak argument but she had to try something. He had obviously forgotten his promise not to accuse her mother again, but in the circumstances Meg was willing to look past that as long as he didn’t continue. 

“She deserves something better than a watery grave in a cavern where she spent the last terrifying hours of her life,” the Vicomte said softly, “If we can find her I can arrange to have her buried next to her father, like she would have wanted.”

Neither Madame Giry nor her daughter could argue with what he was saying. Whilst they didn’t want to consider the possibility that Christine was dead, if it was true then she deserved a proper funeral and burial. 

“I hope to God that I am wrong,” he continued, “And that Christine is still alive. But it’s a possibility that we must consider and the only way to know for sure is to check the lake. I need to know what’s happened to her.”

Meg nodded softly, knowing that to some extent he was right, they couldn’t continue to search without knowing for certain that Christine was no longer in the theatre. She was glad to see that the Vicomte was facing up to the more unpleasant possibilities, even if they were ones that she didn’t want to consider, which she knew was hypocritical of her. She wasn’t sure which she feared more, finding Christine and needing to deal with the reality of her death, or not finding her and having to continue their desperate search. She scolded herself for such thoughts, but she was beginning to fear how far the Vicomte would take the search.

Seeing that they seemed to now understand why he had to do this, he left the two women and continued his search for the managers. As he walked away he realised that not once during the conversation had he referred to Christine as his fiancée or said that he loved her. The thought made him feel hollow inside, like there was a part of him that was slowly disappearing.


	9. The Lake

Only once Raoul explained to the two managers that he would fund the entire search of the lake and convinced them that it would have no impact on the theatre and that no one would even realise they were down there did they allow him to conduct the search. After obtaining permission from the managers he had wanted to start conducting the search immediately. Meg had caught him just before he had been about to rush out of the theatre to hire men to undertake the search. When she had questioned him about who he was going to use he explained that he knew he had to be more careful about who he hired after his last attempt but that they couldn’t afford to spend all their time searching for men. 

Realising that the steps of the opera house was not the place to have this conversation Meg had taken the Vicomte to a small reception room that adjoined the main foyer and sat him down. She had explained as delicately as she could that if the Phantom had left Christine in the lake, whether they starting searching that afternoon or in a week’s time was not going to change that fact. If Christine’s body was in the lake then they wanted her handled with respect and that required they be more selective in whom they hired. Raoul had half hearted argued the point but knew that Meg was right. The last thing he wanted if the Phantom had killed Christine was for her body to be treated with any more disrespect and if he hired the same type of men as before that was what was going to happen. 

So over the next few days, whilst continuing to search the theatre and surrounding areas, Raoul started contacting men that he had met during his naval training. Slowly he was able to start gathering together a group of reputable men who could conduct the search. Most of the men were retired naval officers, either willing to do a favour for the young Vicomte or those who needed the additional income to support their families. Raoul had even been able to find some retired members of the Sûreté, some of whom had experience in searching lakes or other waterways for bodies and he had been willing to offer them as much as they asked for in order to ensure that they would help. 

Every night Raoul continued to have the same nightmare, searching the Phantom’s lair for Christine and finding her crying out for his help in the lake, but never being able to pull her free. Although Meg tried to assure him that once they knew for certain whether Christine was down there or not the dreams would stop, Raoul didn’t think that he would ever stop being haunted by Christine. He didn’t know what he was going to if they did find her and a small naive part of him tried to believe what Madame Giry kept insisting, that the Phantom would never hurt Christine, not in that way.

As a concession to the managers, it had been decided that the search would take place on a Sunday, when fewer members of the public were likely to see the men entering the theatre. Raoul arrived at the theatre at daybreak, having had another restless night filled with nightmares about Christine. Making sure that the entrance to the cellars was clear so the necessary equipment could be taken down Raoul was surprised to see Mademoiselle Giry approaching him, once again wearing men’s trousers. 

“Why are you wearing that?” he said by way of greeting. 

“I’ve never gone down into the cellars wearing a skirt or a dress, you can’t expect me to start now just because there will be other people around.” She replied practically. 

“That wasn’t my concern. I don’t think you should come down today.” He said, wishing he had brought the topic up before the morning of the search. 

“Why not?” Meg interrupted hotly.

“If we do find Christine, she will have been down there for weeks. Water can do things to the human body...it won’t be pleasant. I don’t want you to have to see Christine like that.” He explained.

Meg’s defensive attitude immediately fell away as she realised the Vicomte’s intentions. “But you will.”

“If necessary,” he said stiffly, “Someone needs to be down there that can recognise Christine.” 

“So give the men a picture of Christine, tell them what she looks like.” She suggested.

“No. I have to be there. I can’t stop searching for her now. I know that it won’t be pleasant,” At Meg’s questioning looking he explained, “During my naval training we were sent to recover the body of a man who had fallen overboard. But Christine deserves to be identified by someone who cares for her, not a stranger.”

“And they should not be alone.” Meg hated the idea of him being surrounded by strangers as he identified Christine. The men had been hired to search the lake, nothing more and Meg was under no illusions that today was anything more than a pay day for most of them, even if some of them were personal acquaintances of the Vicomte. They were strangers, who didn’t know Christine and didn’t know the Vicomte well enough to be called friends. Whilst they had been told that part of their job would be to bring the body to the surface if it came to that, would any of them notice the man left behind?

“I have been a part of this search from the beginning,” she went on, “And if the search does end today then I am going to be there. Christine is my best friend, and whilst I believe what Maman says about the Phantom not hurting her, if she is down there I am going to be there for her.”

“You’ve already done so much for her,” he murmured, “I am sure Christine would understand if you weren’t there.”

“I’m sure she would, but I wouldn’t. I won’t abandon Christine because she may not look like I remember. And I don’t want to see you go down there on your own.” She admitted.

“I won’t be alone.” He reminded Meg.

“You know what I mean Vicomte.” She said softly.

“Raoul.” He said, suddenly realising that the young woman beside him was no longer just a friend of Christine’s, but that he now considered her a friend of his own as well, a good friend. He didn’t think he would have made it this far in the search for Christine if she hadn’t been beside him. 

“Pardon?” she questioned.

“You don’t have to call me Vicomte. You can call me Raoul. We are friends after all.” He ventured. 

“Raoul.” She tested his name, “And you can call me Meg.” She smiled, earning a small smile in return. 

“Then we agree that I will go down to help with the search?” she asked.

“Yes,” Raoul agreed, somewhat reluctantly, “But if it becomes too much for you I want you to promise me that you will leave.”

“It won’t, but I promise,” she said as they saw Madame Giry bringing the first of the men to the cellar entrance. 

They had arranged for the most experienced men to come in two hours earlier than the rest to decide how they were going to proceed with the plan. They were surprised to see that Meg, a young woman, was going to lead them down into the cellars, but a few pointed comments from Raoul convinced them to accept her. Further exploration of the lake revealed that there were a number of boats scattered around the shoreline and in the water, which they commandeered for their search after testing that they were safe to use. After seeing the lake and discovering its temperature and depth, one of the former naval officers explained that most of the work would need to be done by boat, so the boats would mean the search could proceed much more quickly than if they had to bring their own boats down. 

Knowing that the remaining men would likely have similar issues about a woman leading them into the cellars upon seeing Meg, Raoul opted to head back to the theatre at the appointed time to meet the rest of the men, leaving Meg to watch as the other men continued to plan the search.

As Meg watched them she thought how different they were to the men that she encountered at the theatre. After the night of Don Juan Triumphant, all of Paris had heard the rumours and stories about the Opera Ghost, but still these men did not hesitate to go down into the cellars. Even though she and Raoul had made numerous trips and returned safely every time the men who worked in the theatre still refused to venture beyond the first few levels. She was starting to see that excessive superstition was an indulgence of theatre life, one that various managers over the years had allowed to go too far. Perhaps if men had been willing to go into the lower levels of the cellars years ago all of this could have been avoided, had the Phantom never had the opportunity to establish a life beneath the theatre. 

The men placed stakes at regular intervals around the shore of the lake, and Meg imagined that if you tied strings from stake to stake they would create a grid. There were long poles resting on the shore and the boats which had been in some of the more inaccessible parts of the lakes had been brought to the main part of the lair and were waiting to be used. One of the men, a retired inspector from the Sûreté that looked like the grandfatherly type, explained to Meg that they had divided the lake into a grid and would search each square in a pattern so they didn’t miss anything. They would row over each square, using the long poles to feel for anything on the bottom. When something was found one of the naval men would swim down to retrieve it. 

Waiting for the rest of the search party to arrive the men started to get restless and decided to start searching the squares that were adjacent to the shoreline. The work appeared to be painstakingly detailed, but they moved much faster than Meg would have expected. The sound of footsteps above signalled the arrival of the rest of the men and Meg realised that if the Phantom had been here on any of the occasions that she and Raoul had come down he would have heard them coming well in advance and been able to escape or hide before they arrived. 

Walking into the lair Raoul could see that the men had already begun the search. He briefly wondered how the initial stages of his search would have progressed if he had hired men like these to search the streets surrounding the theatre for witnesses. The men all came back ashore to greet Raoul and the new men and to explain how the search was to be conducted. Once the men had been divided into groups and the boats went further out into the water, the search quickly got underway.

Meg and Raoul sat on a short flight of stairs that lead down to the shore and watched the men comb through the water. They would occasionally call out to each other, announcing that they had finished searching a section of the grid or that they needed a diver to go down, but all they ever found were rocks, driftwood and the occasionally item from the theatre above. With each square that was successful searched Meg felt a small wave of relief wash over her. 

The men were searching one of the last remaining squares when they both noticed that a number of men were huddling over something in one of the boats. Raoul stood and walked to the water’s edge, with Meg trailing behind. “What have you found?” he called out.

“A bone Monsieur le Vicomte.” One of the officers replied. Meg understood that the men were extremely practical about the job at hand, but surely there were better ways to make an announcement like that.

Raoul must have looked as though he was about to run out into the lake to see the bone because another man shouted “You wait there Monsieur, we’ll bring it to you.”

The minutes seemed to drag by as they watched the boat row back to the shore. As soon as the boat was close enough Raoul ran to it but the men didn’t want to relinquish their find until they were on solid ground for fear of dropping it. They all gathered around a table to inspect the bone. Raoul stared at it, trying to imagine that this bone was Christine, but he couldn’t do it.

“I’d say it’s a thigh bone.” One of the inspectors announced.

“A thigh?” Meg said relief in her voice, “It’s not Christine!”

“How can you know that?” Raoul asked despairingly.

“Look at the size of it. Christine is almost the same height as me. That bone is far too long to be her thigh.” Meg said, pointing at her own thigh.

“She’s right.” An officer agreed, “This bone probably belongs to a man. And it’s been down here a long time. The Mademoiselle’s only been missing a short time; this bone’s probably been here for years. There’s no chance it could be her.”

The excitement over the find quickly dying down, the men returned to the boats to conclude the search, whilst Raoul continued to stare at the bone. “It’s not her?” he whispered.

“It’s not Christine,” Meg confirmed for him, “We should arrange a proper burial for him, especially if the men find anything else.” She suggested, trying to draw his attention away from the morbid sight.

“Of course,” he agreed, still trying to comprehend that it wasn’t Christine.

Meg ushered him back to the stairs, where they sat and continued to watch the men complete the search. No more bones were discovered, but more importantly there was no sign of Christine. Raoul let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding and felt like part of the weight had been lifted from his shoulders as the men leading the search returned to the shore and confirmed that Christine was not in the lake. 

As the men started to pack up their equipment and made their way back to the surface Meg and Raoul continued to sit on the stairs. They both felt that there was a sense of finality to this search, that this was perhaps the last time they would search the Phantom’s lair for Christine. But it didn’t mean that the search was over, and it was only going to become harder as time went on and they had to search further afield. 

When he was ready to leave, Raoul offered his hand to Meg, pulling her to her feet. Making sure that every candle was extinguished, and that nothing had been left behind, she led him out of the cellars for the last time.


	10. Moving On

_ One Month Later _

“We are therefore pleased to announce that the next production at the Opera Populaire will be Mireille.” Monsieur Firmin said with a flourish. 

A cheer went up across the stage as everyone welcomed the good news. The managers had delayed putting on another production, hoping that the gossip and rumours surrounding the night of Don Juan Triumphant would eventually die down. However that had not occurred and the patrons were fast losing patience funding an opera house that wasn’t producing anything. The employees were getting restless and even the laziest of the stagehands was starting to wonder when there was going to be something for them to do again. Madame Giry had been very strict and kept her dancers in practise and classes, however there had been very little for the other performers to do. 

“The departures of Carlotta Giudicelli and Ubaldo Piangi mean that we need a new lead soprano and a new lead tenor,” Monsieur Andre explained. Once Piangi had sufficiently recovered from the Phantom’s attempt to strangle him, the couple decided that they had tired of Paris and moved to Italy where they had both found employment in a small, less prestigious opera house. “Therefore our new leading lady will be Adele Pinard and our leading tenor will be Gregory Despres.”

There was a genuine round of applause as Monsieur Andre announced the names of two popular and hard working members of the chorus. Meg frown slightly at the managers’ failure to mention Christine, who surely would have been the next lead soprano had events not unfolded the way that they had. But she knew that the managers were attempting to put anything to do with the Phantom behind them, and she considered Adele a friend, so she tried to push the thought from her mind. 

“As you may be aware, many of our patrons are very eager to see the Opera Populaire put on a successful production and we know that Mireille has been popular when other theatres have produced it, ” Monsieur Firmin said, becoming more serious. “You are all dependent on our patrons for your continuing livelihoods so we need you all to work your hardest to make sure that we put on the best production of Mireille that Paris has ever seen.”

“Which we are sure that you will all do,” Monsieur Andre added, trying to be encouraging. “Naturally Adele will be playing Mireille and Gregory will take the role of Vincent, however casting for the remaining roles has not been determined yet and will take place tomorrow morning, when auditions and rehearsals will start precisely at seven thirty.”

“We suggest that you enjoy the rest of today, for it will be the last free day any of you have for the foreseeable future.” His partner said rather ominously. Still he wasn’t able to break the high spirits of everyone as they dismissed themselves from the meeting, wandering off to enjoy their day as he suggested and to talk about the new production. 

Meg, who had been sitting with the other dancers, rushed off to find her mother, who had been standing with Monsieur Reyer and the managers for the announcement. The managers had already left the stage and Monsieur Reyer was excusing himself when she arrived.

“Did you know about this Maman?” she asked, her words coming out more accusatory then she intended.

“The managers have been talking about it for a few weeks now, but they only decided for certain late last night,” Madame Giry replied smoothly. “This is a good thing my dear. A theatre that doesn’t produce anything will not last long. If the Opera Populaire had to close then where would we be? We would all have to find new employment and you know that there would not be enough work for everyone. If Messieurs Andre and Firmin had waited much longer they would have had to start letting people go. The patrons have been very insistent that the theatre start working again, some were even threatening to withdraw their support.” She explained in a hushed tone.

“I know. And I’m looking forward to a new production, I am. I just thought they would have made some mention of Christine, seeing as they said that Carlotta and Piangi left.” Meg sighed. 

“They should have,” Madame Giry agreed, “Christine was just as much a part of this theatre as they were. But the managers are trying to pretend that what happened with Christine did not occur and so they do not mention her.”

“Does Raoul know?” Meg asked wearily. At her mother’s raised eyebrow she defended herself, “What? We are friends. Friends call each other by their given names.”

“The Vicomte has not been told. At least not by the managers.” Madame Giry admitted.

“Why not? What do you mean not by the managers?” Meg asked, sensing that her mother had something more to say.

“Amongst the patrons pressuring the managers to put on another production was the Comte de Chagny.” She explained.

“Raoul’s brother? Raoul is the one who represents the de Chagny family patronage, why would his brother be talking to the managers?” Meg knew that Raoul was at the theatre constantly, surely he had spoken to the managers about the family patronage as some point.

“The Vicomte has not spoken to the managers about the theatre in weeks, his brother had to step in to ensure that the family’s investment was secure. He wanted to withdraw support not long ago because the theatre was losing money but decided to stay because he knew what it meant to the Vicomte.” Madame Giry said, glancing around to ensure that nobody was listening in on their conversation. 

“So the Comte has told him.” Meg tried to confirm.

“Meg, it is likely that the Vicomte will not care what is happening here.” She said sadly.

“Of course he will care. Why wouldn’t he?” Meg said, her defences rearing once more.

“I know that you having been spending much time with him but surely you have not been deaf to the rumours circulating about the Vicomte.”

“Well, yes but that’s just the silly ballet rats, they’ll believe anything.” Meg tried to discredit the rumours. Madame Giry was correct, it was impossible to avoid the rumours about the Vicomte. That he was obsessed with Christine and was slowly losing his mind as he searched for her. Some rumours said that he had killed her in a jealous rage and believed that she was still alive, whilst others said that he couldn’t accept that she had left him for another man. There were even rumours that he was to renounce his title so he could devote his full energies to searching for her. Although the rumours were varied, none of them were flattering and Meg knew that none of them were true. Still, watching him search for Christine and knowing his dedication to finding her, Meg could see where some of the rumours had come from and she had to admit that she was becoming more and more concerned about his sanity.

“It’s not just the ballet rats, the other patrons and the nobility have noticed as well. He is turning down all of their invitations and will speak of nothing but Christine and the Opera Ghost. He is ignoring all of his duties. It is why the Comte took over his brother’s duties as patron, because the Vicomte was ignoring it and people were starting to notice. If he had of allowed it to continue much longer the Vicomte would have become a laughingstock. I’m afraid his reputation is precarious at the moment.” Madame Giry explained. 

Meg tipped her head back and sighed. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed two of the older dancers waiting to speak with her mother. “You should go.” She said, tilting her head in the girls’ direction.

“Will you be alright?” Madame Giry asked, concerned that her daughter was taking this news harder than she might realise.

“Of course.” Meg forced a smile. She watched as her mother greeted the girls, before wandering off the stage and heading towards the dormitories. 

Although she knew that the rumours about Raoul were not true, she was aware that his desire to find and rescue Christine was obsessive; there was no other way to describe it. She had hoped that the search of the lake would make him realise that it was time to scale back the search but instead it had the opposite effect and he had started looking even harder than before. Every time that she saw him he would only talk about Christine and what he was doing to try and find her. She knew that the search allowed him very little time at home but until her mother had told her she hadn’t realised that he was ignoring all of his responsibilities. She kicked a nearby bed frame as she conceded that this couldn’t continue and that she needed to show Raoul that it was time to start moving on. 

Meg knew that in the weeks since the search of the lake Raoul would always come to the theatre just after lunch. She waited on the front steps of the building wanting to catch him before he entered and learned of what was happening through overheard conversations, for she knew that nobody would be likely to stop and tell him properly.

She ignored the strange looks that the doorman gave her as she sat on the front steps waiting for Raoul to arrive. Seeing him approaching the theatre she called out, “Raoul.”

“Meg,” he greeted, giving her a confused smile, “What are you doing out here?”

“Walk with me.” She requested, standing up and walking by him, away from the theatre.

“What’s happened? Is something wrong?” he asked, concern evident in his voice as he caught up to her.

“I don’t know.” Meg replied honestly, “I think most people believe it to be good news.”

“What is it?” he pressed.

Meg didn’t immediately response, smiling politely at a young family as they walked passed. “Has your brother spoken to you about the theatre lately?”

“Not really. He left for Switzerland last week on business.” Raoul said, suddenly realising that he couldn’t remember the last time he had a proper conversation with Philippe.

“Many of the Opera’s patrons were becoming concerned that we hadn’t staged a production since....that night,” she said, cringing slightly at her awkward words, “They have been pressuring the managers about their investments so they announced this morning that we will be performing Mireille. Rehearsals are to start tomorrow morning.”

“But I still haven’t found Christine. And that madman is still on the loose. How can they possibly think of staging a production now? Who knows what could happen? And how am I to continue to looking for Christine or any clues as to her whereabouts if there are rehearsals occurring and patrons constantly at the theatre?” he protested. He got progressively louder as he spoke and people turn back to see what the commotion was as they walked passed.

“Raoul please.” Meg begged quietly, glancing around. She didn’t know which part of his speech to address, so she continued to explain the situation, painful as she knew that it was going to be for him, “The managers made no mention of Christine, or the Phantom. I believe that they are choosing to believe that it never occurred,” Raoul looked like he was going to interrupt and she held up her hand to stall him, “It may be foolish, but nonetheless that is the path they have taken. Christine’s disappearance has not had the same impact on people at the theatre that it has on you or I. Everyone is getting restless and they need to continue to live their lives. Some of the patrons were threatening to withdraw their investments if the managers didn’t do something and if that occurred people would start to lose their jobs.”

“But surely there is another way. I can’t continue to search for her in the theatre if there is a production underway. Evidence could be destroyed, anything could happened. Perhaps I can talk to Philippe about increasing our investment, to make up for anyone who withdraws.” He suggested impulsively.

Meg didn’t have the heart to tell Raoul that his brother was one of the patrons pushing for the theatre to stage another production. “Raoul, Christine is not in the theatre. Nor is there a clue anywhere as to where she has gone, where the Phantom has gone or even if they are together. We have searched every inch of the building, and every inch below it, so many times that I’ve lost count. There’s nothing there.” She said, more forcefully than she intended. 

“You can’t be suggesting that we give up?” Raoul asked, horrified.

“No...” Meg replied slowly, “I’m not saying that we should give up on Christine. But it is pointless to continue searching the theatre. And perhaps we should allow the Sûreté to continue the search.”

“You do want to give up! You would leave Christine with that thing.” he said accusingly. 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Meg protested.

“The Sûreté are useless, you know that. If we allow them to continue the search for Christine she will never be found. We might as well tell them not to bother.” He was starting to shout again.

“I love Christine like a sister,” Meg said quietly, “Don’t ever imply that I don’t care about her. If I could do anything to get her back I would. But searching over the same areas again and again is not going to bring her back. The people at the theatre are not the only ones who need to live their lives.” Raoul shot her a disbelieving look, “Don’t look at me like that. You know Christine. She would not want us to stop living because of her.”

“We can’t just abandon Christine to that monster.” He shouted. They had stopped in a small park, and were standing beneath a large tree, away from prying eyes.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she cried in frustration, burying her fists in the folds of her skirt and blinking back tears. She stopped and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “When was the last time you read a book? Or had a meal with Philippe? Or did anything that wasn’t related to searching for Christine? You more than anyone else need to start living your life again. People are starting to see how...obsessive you have become.”

“Do you think I care what these people think of me? They don’t care that Christine is missing. Why should I care what they think of me?” he argued.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t. But people who barely know you and rarely see you can see what this is doing to you. Doesn’t that tell you something?” Meg asked.

Her words seemed to finally have an effect and she watched as Raoul fell silent.

In his mind he tried to answer Meg’s questions. He knew that he was currently reading a book about famous French naval captains but he couldn’t remember the last time he had picked it up or even where he had left it. Philippe was rarely at home for dinner, usually dining with friends or business associates. He had invited Raoul to join him at a dinner not long after Christine had disappeared but he had only accepted because one of the men in attendance owned tracking hounds that he had hoped to borrow. Beyond that he wasn’t able to recall another meal with his brother. All he knew was that his days were dedicated to searching for Christine. It was the right thing to do, he insisted. But how long could he keep it up? He knew he was neglecting his family duties and a part of him recognised that eventually he would have to stop searching for Christine and resume them, but was that time now? His heart still insisted that he shouldn’t be giving up on Christine but his mind told him that perhaps Meg was right.

“You’re right.” He accepted wearily. “I can’t continue to go on like this. I wish I could, but I can’t. And yet I don’t know if I can. Christine’s not here and I don’t know if I can not look for her. I won’t stop searching for her, not completely, but I will try to start living my life again.”

“Good.” Meg said with a gentle smile, “I know how you feel. I don’t want to stop looking for Christine either. But I can’t afford not to live my life. I still want to help you search for her. But I think that as a start we need to agree that there is nothing at the theatre and stop our searches there.”

“Alright,” Raoul agreed. He wanted to search the theatre one last time, just in case, but knew that he shouldn’t. Instead he glanced at his timepiece, “Speaking of the theatre, should you be returning for your mother’s lessons?”

“No,” Meg said, stepping out from under the tree, “Rehearsals start tomorrow, so they managers have given everyone the rest of day off. Still I shouldn’t be away for too long. Maman doesn’t know that I left.”

As they strolled slowly through the streets, taking the long way back to the theatre, Raoul tried to push thoughts of Christine from his mind and focus on what the woman by his side was saying, but did fail on a number of occasions. Still he was pleased that neither the Phantom or Christine came up in their conversation and he was glad of the opportunity to spend time with Meg, getting to know her more, outside of the theatre. It felt like it was the first step towards starting to live his life again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Mireille_ is a 1864 French opera by Charles Gounod. It premiered at the Theatre Lyrique and was also performed at the Opera Comique. It wasn't performed at the Paris Opera until 2009.


	11. Where We Are

Meg looked up from where she was stretching her leg on the barre to see another girl race into the room and let out a sigh of relief when she realised that she wasn’t late and Madame Giry hadn’t arrived to start the class yet. Some girls were stretching like Meg, either using the barre for support or spread out on the floor, whilst other girls were standing in small groups scattered around the room, talking and giggling with their friends.

A few weeks had passed since the managers had announced that the next production was to be Mireille and rehearsals were now well underway. All the roles had been cast, and Meg had been thrilled to receive a dancing solo in act two. They had already been taught the basics of the choreography and were now adding the finer details whilst still practising in the rehearsal rooms. It would likely be another few weeks before rehearsals and blocking were moved to the stage, as the stage hands were continuing to dismantle the sets from Don Juan Triumphant and create new ones for Mireille. The managers had insisted that all the sets and costumes for the production were to be entirely new, which was unusual for normally they would try to re-use items where they could. Instead all the production staff at the Opera Populaire were working harder than they ever had before. 

The tap of Madame Giry’s cane on the wooden floor signalled her arrival and the girls immediately stopped what they were doing and hurried to find a position along the barre. “I assume that you have all stretched and are ready for class,” she said as the pianist sat down at the piano and opened his sheet music. She didn’t look around the room to check that the dancers were ready, but immediately launched into her instructions. “Demi-plié, grand plié, port de bras forward, degagé to second. Demi-plié, grand plié...”

Meg paid little attention to her mother as her body automatically went through the standard exercise. She wondered how many pliés she had done in her life and remembered a time when she was younger and she had tried to count how many she did in a week and how she had lost count by the second day. 

“Degagé to fifth.” Madame Giry continued as the pianist played a slow piece, forcing the dancers to push their pliés as slow and as deep as possible. The crack of her cane against the barre made the dancers start, although the more dedicated ones continued with the exercise. “Celeste and Marie!” she barked, “If you believe that you do not need to pay attention to my instructions perhaps you wish to demonstrate the exercise for the class?”

Blushing hotly, both girls shook their heads and Celeste took a step away from Marie to show that she would stop whispering to her. Forcing herself not to smile, Meg remembered rehearsals where she had incurred her mother’s wrath, usually for gossiping with Christine. Although Christine would immediately do as she was told, Meg often couldn’t resist the urge to continue the conversation and had occasionally upset her mother so much that Madame Giry had forced Meg into the centre of the room to demonstrate the exercise as she had threatened. 

She remembered the last time that had occurred, during one of the early rehearsals for Hannibal. It almost seemed as if it was another life, when Christine was another ballet rat, the Phantom of the Opera was a fun story and the Vicomte de Chagny hadn’t entered their lives. Before Christine had disappeared and they had discovered just how real the Phantom was. Although to an outsider her life still looked very much the same, Meg felt that it had changed dramatically and that she had changed as well, no longer the completely carefree dancer she had been, she felt older. 

“Battement glissé en croix. Three in each position.” Madame Giry directed.

Meg thought about what had occurred to bring them to this place. She wondered whether if one element had been taken away, would she still be here. If Raoul had never come to the theatre as a patron would Christine still be here? Would the Phantom still be here? She wondered whether she was the only one to think about this? She couldn’t imagine her mother dwelling on events and thinking about ‘what ifs’. Instead she would focus on what can be changed in the present. Raoul however, Meg had no trouble believing that the Vicomte would still be thinking about how things could have turned out differently. During the searches of the theatre Meg had patiently listened to him as he analysed every move that he had made since the day he had first come to the theatre. 

Her thoughts started to drift to the Vicomte and she wondered what he was doing at the moment. She hadn’t seen him since the day the managers had made the announcement about Mireille and she had told him that he needed to stop searching for Christine in the theatre and start living his life again. She knew that he hadn’t returned to the theatre but she hoped that he had paid attention to what she had said that day, and wasn’t wandering the streets looking for any clue as to where Christine had gone. Meg was not so naive as to believe that he had entirely given up on his search and to be fair she did not want him to stop his search because she knew that with the resources he had at his disposal and his dedication he still had the best chance of finding her, more so than the Sûreté. 

Still, she hoped that at this moment the Vicomte was having tea with his family or other nobles or that that he was discussing business with his partners. She hoped that he was doing something that he would have done before Christine had gone missing and that he wasn’t sitting alone obsessing over what he could have done differently or where he was going to continue his search. 

“Rond de jambe à terre. Three en dedans and three en dehors.” Her mother ordered, stopping to correct an older girl’s arms. 

Meg frowned slightly as she realised that had Christine not disappeared that night then she and Raoul would likely never have become friends. It was perhaps the one good thing to come out of the terrible events. She knew that their relationship had started out purely as a matter of convenience, he needed someone to help look for Christine and she was the only one willing and able to assist, but she believed that she could now call him her friend. After his request that she call him Raoul, rather than Vicomte, she felt that he considered her the same. 

Would they have become friends had Christine not disappeared? She would have liked to believe that her friendship with Christine would have continued had Christine married Raoul and subsequently she and Raoul would have become friends, but she knew that after events with the Phantom Raoul had wanted to take Christine as far away from the opera house as possible. Not to mention the scandal that a Vicomte and his wife being friends with a dancer would have caused, if even the Vicomtess had been a former dancer herself. In truth Meg knew that she and Christine would have drifted apart and that she never would have really gotten to know Raoul. It was rather peculiar that the Phantom’s actions would have driven Raoul from the theatre with Christine, yet now it was his actions, or at least so Raoul believed, that were causing Raoul to stay. 

“Into the centre girls.” Madame Giry told the dancers, as they shook out their legs from the last exercise.

* * *

“That’s the last of them,” Raoul said with a sigh of relief, allowing the pen to drop from his fingers and roll across the table. “Can you please ensure that these are sent today?” he requested of his valet Georges, who nodded and gather up the numerous envelopes. 

After his conversation with Meg on the day that Mireille was announced as the Opera Populaire’s next production, Raoul had written to Philippe in Switzerland and advised him of the new turn of events. After much soul searching Raoul had apologised for any harm that he caused the de Chagny name in his actions, although he refused to apologise for looking for Christine. Philippe had been quite reasonable in his response, accepting Raoul’s apology saying that he understood his actions, although he could not publically support them, and that it was time for Raoul to start acting as a de Chagny again. 

Raoul had accepted his brother’s instructions, although he had reiterated that he had not entirely stopped searching for Christine and that if there was news of her he would follow it. As a consequence he was now sitting at his desk accepting every invitation that was addressed to him. With Philippe out of the country Raoul was now the representative of one of the oldest noble families in Paris and despite the gossip that his actions had caused in the past few months, people still wanted him at their events. 

So for the past few weeks he had tried to resume living his old life. He had attended parties and dances, spoken graciously with his hosts and charmed everyone that he met. When he was alone he found that he started thinking about Christine, where she was, whether she was safe, and what he could be doing to find her. At these times he tried to remember what Meg had told him that afternoon, that he needed to start living his life and that obsessing over what he could have done was not going to help anyone.

It was hard, knowing that Christine was still missing and not actively doing something to find her. He had felt horrible the first few times he had attended a party or dance, thinking how wrong it was that he should be attending an event that most people would consider enjoyable, although he was finding no joy in it, when Christine could be suffering. Gradually the feeling of intense guilt started to fade, although there was always a twinge of guilt when he happened to think of her at one of these events. 

Raoul started to imagine what his life would have been like with Christine by his side. Up until now all his thoughts had been focused on finding Christine and rescuing her from that fiend, or what would have happened had he managed to get her to the estate that night. But he had never really thought about Christine in his everyday life. He had no doubt that they would be married, although the idea didn’t give his heart the same thrill that it had when he had first proposed, and he knew that their marriage would have been happy and comfortable. Would she have been attending these parties and dances with him, being introduced as the new Vicomtess de Chagny or would they have been travelling throughout Europe on an extended bridal tour. He imagined holding her in his arms as they danced, and her leaning sleepily against his shoulder on the carriage ride home.

Although he knew what people had been saying about him and his search for Christine, it disheartened Raoul to see the views of his friends and acquaintances in person. Like the managers at the theatre, many seem to prefer to pretend that the entire incident had never occurred, whilst those who did mention it believed it to be a sad state of affairs, not because a young woman had gone missing but because of the impact it had on Raoul’s life and reputation. After all, why throw away the life of a Vicomte for a pretty face, as one baron had described the situation. Although he did not wanted to make a scene, Raoul couldn’t allow anyone to speak of Christine in that way and it had very quickly become known by all acquaintances of the de Chagny family that it was best not to mention those events at all in the presence of Raoul de Chagny. 

Raoul began to realise that the only person who was genuinely supporting his search for Christine was Meg, and to a lesser extent her mother. Although he knew that Philippe did support him privately, at the end of the day he would put the de Chagny name above the search for Christine, regardless of the circumstances they found her in. Meg however, recognise how important it was to Raoul that he find Christine and supported him, only telling him to stop searching because she was concerned about the impact that it was having on him or because it was becoming pointless. As he thought back, he started to recognise just how much time Meg had dedicated to helping him search for Christine. Between helping him, attending classes and looking after the youngest ballet rats it was astounding that she hadn’t collapsed from exhaustion. He wished he had recognised this earlier but could understand that Meg had been right and he needed to stop searching for Christine so he could start to see what was happening around him. Raoul thought about writing to Meg and telling her this but then decided that he wanted to tell her in person, although that would mean going to the Opera Populaire.

Having discussed it with Philippe, Raoul had decided it would be best if he no longer visited the Opera Populaire, unless he had a socially acceptable reason for doing so, lest anyone see him. It had been hard for the first few days, as his instincts kept telling him to return but he fought them, knowing logically that it would serve no purpose. As much as he wanted to see Meg and tell her everything that he had realised, he knew that he had to hold himself back. He was to attend the opening night of Mireille but until then he would stay away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For information on the ballet steps that Madame Giry leads the dancers through, visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glossary_of_ballet


	12. A Dance

The Opera Populaire glittered against the night sky on the opening night of Mireille. True to their word the managers had managed to put on one of the grandest productions Paris had ever seen, with entirely new sets and costumes and every member of Parisian society was there to see it. Celebrations had started early in the evening when some of the patrons invited selected people to a light supper to celebrate a new beginning for the theatre, however the festivities had truly begun when people had started to arrive at the Opera Populaire. Ladies and gentlemen had dressed in their finest to be seen at the premiere of Mireille and tomorrow’s newspapers would be filled with all the details. 

The public did not seem to notice that Carlotta was not singing and everyone said how wonderful the new soprano was. The stagehands had been on their best behaviour, keeping the alcohol consumption to a minimum, and as a result all the sets and props were ready at the appropriate times. Even Madame Giry had been please with the dancers, giving the older ones her blessing to attend the gala ball later that evening. Meg had been practically giddy with excitement after the thundering round of applause she had received for her solo and there had been a number of bouquets waiting for her backstage in the dancers’ dressing room. 

As soon as the curtain had fallen after Adele’s final curtsey the audience had rushed from the theatre, heading to townhouses and hotel rooms in order to change for the gala ball. Messieurs Andre and Firmin had gathered everyone on stage for a few moments in order to congratulate them on the production, before rushing off to change and be ready to greet the first guests at the ball. Whilst only certain members of the cast had been invited to attend the ball the rest of the employees of the Opera Populaire had planned their own celebration backstage and had eagerly been looking forward to it for weeks. 

It seemed that everyone had forgotten the last time they had attended a premiere at the Opera Populaire, as well as the last time they had attended a ball at the theatre. No one had hesitated to accept an invitation to the gala ball and those who had not automatically been sent tickets to the event had swiftly purchased them, regardless of the cost. Even the newspapers had neglected to mention past events when writing about the theatre in the lead up to opening night. It was strange that events that had so enthralled the city only a few months earlier were now entirely forgotten, except by a select few. 

Like the other patrons, Raoul had quickly left the theatre at the end of Mireille to change for the ball. As he arrived at the Opera Populaire for the second time that evening he took a moment to take in the view. When he had arrived for the first time that evening he had been too worried about how he was going to feel upon entering the building to take any notice of what it looked like. It had hurt, coming back to the theatre and knowing that Christine still had not been found but despite that he found that he had enjoyed the production and had cheered loudly for Meg when she curtseyed at the end of her solo. 

There were dozens of footmen waiting out the front of the theatre ready to help ladies from their carriages, as well as doormen at every door. Lanterns were strung high above them and large torches were burning brightly. Already there were dozens of guest milling on the stairs, waiting for the rest of their parties to exit the carriage so they could make their entrance together. Raoul was one of the few guests who arrived alone and he quickly climbed out of his carriage and walked into the theatre.

“Monsieur le Vicomte,” Monsieur Firmin greeted the moment he had crossed the threshold into the theatre. “We’re so pleased that you could make it.”

“Thank you,” Raoul said politely, taking a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, “It’s wonderful to be here.”

“We were just saying,” Monsieur Andre joined in, “How wonderful it is to have all of the patrons here tonight, helping us to celebrate the opening night of Mireille.”

“I’m certain that nobody would have wanted to missed tonight’s premiere, and of course this wonderful ball.” Raoul said, using his flute to indicate that party around them. 

“That’s so good of you to say.” Monsieur Firmin said, obviously pleased with the attention from the Vicomte. “We want this to be a new era for the Opera Populaire.”

“The new singers are quiet talented. I imagine they will become very popular if you continue to cast them,” Raoul commented, “The dancers were excellent as well.” He continued, remembering Meg’s solo. 

“Yes, a number of the other patrons were quite taken with Mademoiselle Pinard and Monsieur Depres and they have proven quiet popular with the audience so I imagine that we will continue to cast them as the leads.” Monsieur Andre observed. 

There was an awkward pause as the conversation seemed to die and Raoul started to wonder how he could politely extract himself from the two managers. 

“We want to assure you Vicomte, that this ball will not be a repeat of the last one held at the Opera Populaire. We have put precautions in place to ensure that there are no unwanted guests.” Monsieur Firmin said, evidently pleased with his attempt to revive the conversation.

“I beg your pardon?” Raoul exclaimed, amazed at the gall of the man to mention the night when he had done his very best to ignore all of Raoul’s attempts to track down Christine.

“The Phantom of course, at the Masquerade,” he responded, mistaking Raoul’s outrage for confusion.

“Firmin,” Monsieur Andre tried to hiss discretely, “You remember what he was like. We cannot guarantee anything.”

“It seems, Monsieur Firmin,” Raoul started coolly, “That there are a great many things that you have forgotten about recent events.”

“Monsieur Firmin, Monsieur Andre, what a splendid party.” An older gentleman greeted, accompanied by a young woman. 

“Ah Comte Murat,” Monsieur Andre said, relieved at the interruption, “Welcome. Have you met the Vicomte de Chagny?”

“I know your brother the Comte but I don’t believe we’ve ever formally met,” The Comte said good naturedly, offering his hand to Raoul, “This is my daughter Émeline.” He said of the young woman next to him.

“A pleasure, Monsieur le Comte, Mademoiselle.” Raoul said, shaking the Comte’s hand and placing a light kiss of the back of Émeline’s.

“I hate to do this at such a delightful ball gentleman, but we do need to discuss that issue I raised earlier this week,” Comte Murat said apologetically. 

“Oh yes, of course,” Monsieur Firmin agreed.

“Perhaps Émeline would like to dance with the Vicomte?” Monsieur Andre suggested.

Although Raoul had no particular desire to dance, he didn’t wish to appear rude and offered his hand to the young woman and lead her to the dance floor, leaving her father with the two managers to discuss their business in private. 

As they danced conversation was minimal, limited to polite small talk about the decorations and the production. Another man might have recognised that Émeline would have been receptive to more lively conversation but Raoul was too distracted. 

He remembered the last time that he had danced in this room, when Christine had been his secret fiancée. Looking around the room, he saw exactly the same people, gathered in the same groups, with the same entertainment. It seemed as though nothing had really changed for these people. Any fear that they felt on that night had long since disappeared and there was no apprehension about returning. But so much had changed for him. He should have been dancing at this ball with his wife, not a stranger thrust upon him by the managers and he should have been genuinely enjoying himself, not just pretending to. 

Relieved when the song came to an end, Raoul quickly excused himself, leaving a disappointed Émeline standing in the middle of the dance floor. He kept his head down as he escaped the ball, not wanting to be caught by anyone who might want conversation or a dance. He could still hear the music as he wandered the empty corridors and let himself into a room that he knew had been set up as a small sitting room. 

He gently pushed the door shut behind him, although it didn’t click shut and he just stood there, allowing his eyes to gradually adjust to the darkness. Once he could see sufficiently to move through the room without running into anything, he walked over to a lounge and collapsed with a groan.

There was a squeak from over near the window and a tentative voice called out, “Hello?”

“Meg?” Raoul asked, recognising the voice.

“Oh Raoul, thank goodness.” Meg exclaimed stepping out from where she had been hidden in amongst the shadows and dark curtains. 

“You were expecting someone else?” he questioned.

“No. I wasn’t expecting anyone,” she explained, coming across to sit beside him on the lounge. “Tonight reminded you of Christine,” she guessed after a moment, knowing that it was the likely reason behind his escape.

“Yes,” he admitted. 

“Did you not expect it?” she asked.

“I suppose,” Raoul replied, leaning back, “I have spent so much time here, all related to Christine and then I force myself to cut myself off entirely from the place. To be back here again, it is strange. Especially as my reasons for being here have nothing to do with Christine.”

“Was it hard?” Meg asked, understanding how he must have felt over the past weeks, as though he was giving up.

“My god yes.” He said with a bitter laugh, “I thought that I would go mad with the guilt those first days. Philippe was away in Switzerland and I didn’t want to see any friends or acquaintances. I fear that I continued to obsess even though I was no longer actively searching.”

“But it did get better,” prompted Meg.

“Slowly, it did get better. I had time to think about what I had done, not only with Christine but since then as well. I realised that you were right.” He confessed.

“About what?”

“About everything.” Raoul said with a sweeping gesture, “And I realised how poorly I treated you. I want to apologise for that.”

“Treated me poorly? Why on earth would you think that?” Meg asked, bewildered.

“You had your job here, and even though there wasn’t a production your mother still had you in practise and lessons every day, and you were looking after the youngest dancers and then I was dragging you off to search for Christine in every spare moment that you had. You never had a moment to yourself, you must have been exhausted. As a gentleman I should have recognised that. As a friend even more so.” He concluded.

“Raoul you didn’t drag me off. I helped you search because I wanted to. As I said, Christine is my best friend, of course I want to find her and see her safe. Exhaustion is a small price to pay if we can find Christine.” She said gently. 

“But still....” he started.

“But nothing. If it makes you feel better I will accept your apology, although I do not believe one is necessary,” she offered.

“Good, because I believe one is necessary.” He replied defiantly.

The mood in the room lightening, Meg grinned at Raoul.

“So tell me Meg, after your triumph on the stage, why are you hiding away in here? I thought that you would be out there enjoying the ball, dancing.”

“I’m not hiding,” she defended herself, “I simply need a break from all the festivities.”

Raoul didn’t respond, but raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

“Oh alright. The ball was fine although I wasn’t able to dance as much as I would have liked.” She sulked.

“Why not? After your performance I thought that you would have had no shortage of willing dance partners.” He asked.

“I was asked to dance by a number of men. However none of the dances were enjoyable.” She said, trying to be discrete.

“Why?” Raoul pushed.

“My partners did not seem to know where the appropriate spot for their hands were,” Meg informed him, thankful that the darkness would hide her blush.

“What! Who were they?” he exclaimed, ready to jump to his feet.

“I’m not sure. It doesn’t matter. There was no real harm done.” Meg protested, although it was evident in her voice that she was disappointed.

Relaxing slightly, Raoul thought about this for a moment. “We can hear the music in here.”

“So?” Meg asked, confused at the sudden change in conversation.

Jumping to his feet, Raoul gave a bow and asked, “Would Mademoiselle care to dance?”

“Raoul!” she said, although she couldn’t hide her smile.

“Please? I promise I will be the perfect gentleman.” He beseeched, smiling back and offering her his hand. 

Reaching up she placed her hand in his, “I would be delighted to Monsieur le Vicomte.”

Meg giggled as he pulled her to her feet and placed his hand lightly on her waist. “Ready?” he asked. Meg nodded as he started to lead her around in time to the music, deftly avoiding any furniture in their path. 

They became so caught up in their dance that they didn’t realise that the band had stopped playing. As they gradually came to a stop, Meg said softly, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He replied equally as softly, not immediately letting her go. As he released her he asked, “Do you want to return to the ball?” not entirely realising that he was hoping she would say no.

Meg shook her head, “No. I think that I’ve had enough excitement for one night. I should go back to the dormitory.” She said, covering up a yawn, “I’ve had my dance, which is what I wanted from tonight.” she explained, smiling.

“Shall I walk you to the dormitory?” he offered.

“I don’t think it would be wise for you to be seen near the female dormitories.” Meg pointed out.

“Right,” Raoul said, slightly embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of the implications, “At least allow me to walk you through the ball, so that no one bothers you.” He proposed, offering his arm.

Smiling, Meg nodded in agreement and tucked her hand around his elbow, allowing him to escort her from the room and back through the ball.


	13. Promise Me

For the first time in months, when Raoul awoke in the morning the day after the gala his initial thoughts were not about Christine. Despite the uncomfortable conversation he had shared with the managers he decided that he had ultimately enjoyed the evening. Although he had been apprehensive about returning to the theatre knowing that Christine still had not been found, the previously overwhelming desire to comb the theatre for clues or question every person he came across had faded. He realised that his disappearing act after dancing with the Comte’s daughter was not quiet the type of behaviour Philippe would have hoped he would have exhibited, but he could not say that he regretted it, for the rest of the evening had been very enjoyable. 

With a smile on his face that he couldn’t entirely explain, he quickly rose and dressed, hoping for a ride on Orion before breakfast. He made a brief detour to the kitchen to fetch a piece of fruit for the horse, whilst promising the cook that he would be back for breakfast. As he left the kitchen he overheard one of the older maids comment that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the Vicomte in such a good mood. 

Entering the stables he gave Orion a rub on the nose and allowed him to take the apple from his palm. Leaving Orion’s stall he walked over to the tack room to fetch what he needed. As he reached for a blanket he overheard one of stable hands say, “Well maybe there’s hope for us all.” He recognised the voice as Corin, a stable hand about ten years older than him. He continued to collect what he needed whilst he half heartedly listen to the conversation that drifted across from the next room. 

“Maybe for some of us,” the other stable hand, Justin, joked, “I don’t think any woman will be willing to marry you, especially when you always smell of horses.”

“You smell just as much like horses as I do,” Corin retorted.

“Yes but I’m much better looking than you.” Justin boasted. This was followed by the sound of scuffling as Corin attempted to tackle Justin and Justin tried to evade him. 

The good natured fight ended and Raoul could hear that Corin was out of breath when he continued, “Seriously though, if a man who is so horribly disfigured that he has to wear a mask can find a woman to marry him, there’s hope for us all.”

It took a moment for what Corin was saying to register with Raoul and, dropping the bridle he had just picked up, he rushed into the next room, startling the two stable hands.

“Monsieur le Vicomte,” Justin greet shakily.

“Who were you speaking of?” Raoul demanded.

“I beg your pardon sir?” Justin questioned.

“The masked man, where is he?” Raoul pushed, his cheerful mood of only moments ago instantly gone. 

“I don’t know Monsieur le Vicomte. One of the maids in the kitchen told me about him.” Corin explained. He felt incredibly stupid for not thinking of the Vicomte’s situation when he had relayed the story to Justin. But what were the changes that on a property the size of the de Chagny estate, the Vicomte would happen to be standing in the next room at the exact time he told the story. Still, all the staff in the de Chagny home knew of the younger son’s obsession with an opera singer and the masked man who had abducted her from the stage, although he didn’t believe that this masked man would be the Phantom, not after what the maid had told him. “I’m sure it’s not him sir.”

“How can you be certain of that? How long have you known of this?” Raoul asked in a low voice.

“Only a few days,” Corin tried to reassure his employer, “But he is a farmer.”

“Tell me everything.” Raoul insisted.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much more. They’ve only been married a few months. She is young and very beautiful but her husband is older and has to wear a mask to cover a deformity on one side of his face.”

“My god. He’s married her and forced her into a life of poverty as part of his sick game.” Raoul said to himself. His one comfort during this ordeal had been that the Phantom had the money he had extorted from the managers and this would allow him to at least keep Christine in comfort. He couldn’t understand why they would be living as farmers. Was the money gone or was he not using it to avoid drawing any unnecessary attention to them? “Who told you about this?”

“Colette, Monsieur le Vicomte. She’s a maid in the kitchen.” Corin admitted. He felt terrible about giving Colette’s name to the Vicomte for he was sure that the young girl would not be able to handle the anger that would be directed her way. 

“Good. Don’t you ever keep information such as this from me again. Is that clear?” Raoul snarled. Without waiting for a reply he turned and stalked back to the house, determined to find out everything Colette knew.

“Where is Colette?” Raoul demanded the moment he walked into the kitchen.

“Monsieur le Vicomte, whatever is the matter?” one of the older women asked.

“Where is Colette?” he repeated.

A girl who looked no older than fourteen or fifteen stood up from where she had been seated in front of the fireplace, “Monsieur le Vicomte,” she said timidly.

“You are Colette? I don’t recognise you,” he stated.

“I’m new Monsieur,” she stammered.

“Colette only started a few weeks ago,” the older woman explained.

“You have been spreading gossip about a masked man who recently got married. Why didn’t you tell me this immediately?” he asked harshly.

“Monsieur!” Colette gasped fearfully, clearly not understanding why the Vicomte was shouting at her about some mindless gossip she had heard a few days ago. “I don’t know...that is I...”

“Colette doesn’t know about Mademoiselle Daae Monsieur le Vicomte,” the older woman came to Colette’s rescue again.

“Fine.” He scowled. “You told one of the stable hands that you know of a couple who recently were married and that the husband wears a mask to cover a deformity on his face. Who are they and where can I find them?”

“I don’t know.” She replied fearfully, “I heard about them when I was at the market the other day. There was a lady’s maid there. Her mistress had recently returned to Paris after visiting her home in the country. The lady’s maid said that the couple lived near her mistress’s home and that she had seen the husband in the village.”

“Where is the village?” he asked.

“It was called Asnières-sous-Bois in Burgundy.” She said, thankful that she remembered the name of the village, for it had been the first time she had ever heard of it.

“Is that everything you know?” Raoul probed. 

Colette nodded emphatically, eager for her first encounter with the Vicomte to end.

“Alright,” he said, dismissing the girl with a wave of his hand. He continued to stand in the middle of the kitchen as he considered his next steps. He was certain that this couple must be the Phantom and Christine for it was too much of a coincidence for it to be anyone else. As much as he wished to be able to saddle Orion and ride immediately to Asnières-sous-Bois he knew that he could not risk the Phantom fleeing with Christine and that he would need men with him to prevent this from occurring. This would mean returning to the Sûreté and explaining the situation. He only hoped that this new development would convince them to act more quickly than they previously had. But he would insist upon being there when they rescued Christine.

“Monsieur?” one of the kitchen hands who was standing nearby asked. When he saw that he had gained the Vicomte’s attention he continued, “Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“Ah, no.” Suddenly realising that he was still standing in the kitchen with the servants staring at him, he left, continuing to work out what he would do next.

* * *

After leaving the Sûreté Raoul found that his faith in the organisation had been somewhat restored. Inspectors Thierry and Michel had been surprised that such useful information had come to light so long after Christine’s disappearance, but nonetheless promised that they would look into it immediately. Raoul refrained from pointing out that as this couple had been married for a number of months the Sûreté should have found out about them during their investigations, instead telling them everything that he had heard from Corin and Colette. Once they had noted all this information down the inspectors had decided that they would set out to the village first thing in the morning to meet with the couple and if it was as they suspected, Raoul would bring Christine back to Paris and his family’s estate and the Sûreté would bring the Phantom back in handcuffs to face trial. Although they agreed that the likelihood of the couple being anyone else was quiet low, they nonetheless refrained from reaching any firm conclusions until they arrived. They had initially tried to dissuade Raoul from accompanying them but had eventually relented, agreeing that a familiar face would no doubt comfort Mademoiselle Daae and he would be able to immediately escort her to the estate. 

His next stop was the Opera Populaire. Although Raoul knew that Philippe would not be pleased that he was going there without a socially acceptable reason, he did not want to withhold this information from Meg. He felt that after the previous night he had proven to himself that he was able to return to the theatre without giving in to his need to search for Christine. Besides, he told himself, this visit was about telling Meg about what was happening, nothing more. 

“Raoul.” Meg must have seen him the moment he had entered the room for she had left the group of dancers that she was talking to to come and greet him. 

“Meg,” he smiled, “Have you a moment, I have news.”

Meg glanced back at the stage to check that she wasn’t needed. Adele and Gregory appeared to be going over some finer details of their performances from the night before. “Of course. What is it?” She said.

“Don’t look so worried Meg. It is good news. We should sit.” Although Meg was wearing her rehearsal clothes, Raoul nonetheless offered her his arm to escort her to the back of the stalls. 

“It’s about Christine.” He blurted out when they had seated themselves in the back row. “I think I’ve found her. No, I know I’ve found her. I’m going with the Sûreté first thing in the morning to rescue her.”

“What? Where is she? How did you find her?” Meg exclaimed.

“It’s because of you.” He suddenly realised. “If it hadn’t been for you I might never have heard.”

“Raoul you’re not making any sense.” Meg said, worried that he was returning to his previous obsessive behaviour.

“Don’t look at me like that Meg,” he said taking her hand, “It will make sense once I explain it.” He reassured her.

“I overheard two of our stable hands talking this morning, about a man who wears a mask on one side of his face to cover a deformity who was recently married to a young woman. The stable hands had been told by one of the maids who heard it from a lady’s maid who had visited the village where this man is living.” He explained.

Meg wasn’t convinced, “You know how gossip can become distorted when it is passed from one person to another like that...”

“I know I know. But I spoke to the maid who confirmed the story. She said that they were living in a small village in Burgundy and that the lady’s maid had actually seen the man. It’s them Meg, I know it.” He said, gripping her hand tighter. 

“Alright. But what does this have to do with me?” she asked curiously. 

“First the first time in months, I truly enjoyed myself last night. It was because of you and our dance.” He paused for a moment as Meg blushed, “And when I awoke this morning my first thoughts were not of Christine. I was happy. I decided to take the opportunity to go for a ride on Orion and that’s the only reason I happened to be in the stables at that time and overheard the stable hands’ conversation.”

Meg cleared her throat and tried to will the blush away from her cheeks, “What is the next step?”

“I’ve already spoken to the inspectors and we are to travel to Burgundy first thing tomorrow to track down Christine.” He explained.

“We?” Meg repeated.

“I convinced Inspector Thierry that I should accompany them, in case Christine becomes distressed and so I can take her directly to the estate.” Raoul said.

“Good,” she murmured, pleased that he friend would not be confronted by a group of strangers. “And you will bring Christine home?”

“Of course. We will have to make arrangements for the marriage to be annulled, if it is a legitimate marriage, but I don’t imagine that will cause any problems. It’s obvious that even if they are legitimately married that she was forced.”

“Maybe.” She agreed.

“Maybe? What do you mean?” he asked, distress leaking into his voice.

“It’s nothing. Only...what if it wasn’t forced?” she suggested timidly.

“Meg...what do you mean?” he said slowly. 

“It’s not hidden. This marriage,” she clarified, “If it is them, they are openly living as a married couple in this village. If the lady’s maid saw him, maybe she saw Christine too. If he forced her, I don’t think anyone would know about it, he would want to keep her hidden. He wouldn’t want to give her any chance to escape or ask for help. Maybe this was a marriage that both parties consented to.”

“Do you really believe that?” he asked incredulously.

“I don’t know. But I don’t think I can completely ignore the possibility. There’s so much about Christine’s...relationship with this man that we never knew about.” Meg admitted.

Raoul slumped back in the chair, not letting go of Meg’s hand. “I know. I don’t even know whether I want the marriage to be consensual or not. I’m not sure which would be worse. But I’ll have to find out, because it is the only way to know if it is her.”

“I know. Which is why you will go with the Sûreté tomorrow. Remember, you aren’t even sure that it is Christine, not really. If it is Christine...we will worry about what that means when the time comes.” Meg said wisely. 

From the front of the theatre Madame Giry was calling all the dancers to the stage. “You should go,” Raoul said to Meg, “I will see you when I return.”

“I will be waiting,” she promised, releasing his hand as she stood to return to the stage. “If it is Christine, bring her home safely.”

“I will.” He pledged. As he watched her walk away he thought he heard her ask that he also return home safely. But he wasn’t certain and couldn’t think why she would say that, so he didn’t reply, but silently wished that he could make that promise to her.


	14. A Man and His Wife

They had all pushed the horses dreadfully but by midday of the third day Raoul, the young inspector and the men from the Sûreté that accompanied them had arrived on the outskirts of Asnières-sous-Bois. Raoul knew that he should have been exhausted from such a hard ride but as they had ridden past the sign that announced their arrival at the village, he felt a rush of energy as he realised just how soon this could all be over. In a matter of hours he could be holding Christine in his arms as they safely made their way back to Paris, with that monster locked up for what he had done. 

Raoul had wanted to immediately find the house where the Phantom was holding Christine but Inspector Michel had held him back. He wanted to speak with the local authorities first, explain why they were here and make any necessary arrangements for holding the Phantom. The local officer knew the couple and insisted that it could not possibly be who they were looking for. He had tried to protest against intruding on the newlyweds but had reluctantly agreed to provide them with whatever assistance they required, knowing that he wasn’t able to win in an argument with the Parisian authorities. 

It was late afternoon by the time Inspector Michel felt they were ready to approach the small cottage that the local inspector had identified as belonging to the couple. Inspector Michel had wanted to wait until the next morning, when the men would not be so exhausted but Raoul was insistent that they act immediately and not leave Christine in the hands of the monster for any longer than she already had been. The past three days, with nothing to focus on as they rode hour after hour, had allowed Raoul’s imagination to run rampant. He started to imagine all that Christine would be forced to do being married to that creature. He tried to remember what Madame Giry had said, that the Phantom loved Christine and would not harm her, but when he was exhausted and trying to sleep at night, his mind would go into overdrive and begin to imagine terrible things that he previously wouldn’t have thought he was capable of imagining. 

Inspector Michel would look back and consider that he had demonstrated a severe lack of professional judgement, but they decided that Raoul should be the one to approach the cottage first. The local inspector had said that the husband would always spend the morning tending to the crops and that the wife would be alone in the house. It was decided that this was the perfect opportunity to try and take Christine from the house without interference from the Phantom. Once Raoul had safely taken Christine from the property, Inspector Michel and his men would attempt to arrest the Phantom.

Not wishing to frighten Christine any further Raoul looked behind himself to see that Inspector Michel and his men were ready, hidden away from view but ready to come out if the husband return, and knocked on the shabby door. He could hear someone moving about inside and the door was flung open to reveal a young woman holding a mixing bowl and spoon. He eyes visibly widened at the sight of Raoul and it was obvious that she had been expecting someone else. “Can...” she cleared her throat, “Can I help you Monsieur?”

Raoul was similarly taken aback at the woman who opened the door or, more specifically, the way she had opened the door. He was relieved to see that the Phantom hadn’t forced Christine into a life of complete poverty and that he had at least hired a woman to help with the cooking and cleaning; however the way she had opened the door was hardly fitting of an employee. She acted as though she were mistress of the house.

“Ah, yes. Could I speak to your mistress please?” he requested politely, not wanting to cause the woman any alarm.

“My mistress?” she repeated, clearly confused.

“Yes. Is she home?” Raoul asked, discreetly trying to peer into the house. 

“There must be some mistake Monsieur,” she replied and seeing Raoul’s attempts to look into the house, stood directly in the doorway to prevent further access. “I am the mistress of this house.”

Raoul wondered whether the woman had been instructed to hide Christine’s presence in the house to strangers, “It’s alright Mademoiselle, I’m a friend of your mistress. I knew her in Paris.”

“It’s Madame.” She said firmly, “And I have no mistress. I live in this house with my husband and I would ask that you please leave.”

He was starting to get frustrated at the resistance of the young woman but tried to remain calm and polite, for he knew that she was only acting this way because of the Phantom. “I know that your employer has ordered you to tell this story. But I promise that we are here to help Christine. We can help you as well.”

“We?” the woman gasped taking a step away from the doorway to survey the property, “Who else is there?”

Raoul winced; he hadn’t intended to reveal the others until he was certain that Christine was in the house. “I am here with an inspector from Paris and members of the Sûreté. As I said we are here to help Christine.”

“I don’t know any Christine.” She cried.

“Well perhaps he is forcing her to use another name,” he suggested, wondering why the Phantom would go to such lengths to hide Christine yet allow they entire village to know of their marriage.

“Monsieur, what you are saying makes no sense. My husband and I are the only ones who live here.” She pleaded.

The woman seemed to be sincere but Raoul knew that he could not simply rely on her word. The Phantom had killed before; he would think nothing of threatening or blackmailing a woman to get his way. “Allow me to search the house, so that I can be assured you are the only woman living here.”

“Absolutely not,” the woman seemed to regain her confidence at the thought of her home being invaded by a strange man. 

“Madame,” Raoul said softly, stepping closer to her, “If he is threatening you we can help, but I promise you, if Christine is hurt in any way because of your actions I will make you pay.”

She didn’t back down at his threat and remained firmly planted in the doorway as she replied, “The only one threatening me is you.”

As he realised what he was doing he took a step back, realising just how close he was standing to the woman and how intimidating he must have seemed. He was about to open his mouth and attempt to explain why it was so important that she reveal Christine’s whereabouts when the woman shouted out, “Armand!”

Raoul turned around to see the figure of a man approaching the house. From a distance he didn’t appear to be a very large man and when the woman called out to him he started moving much more quickly. He could tell immediately that it wasn’t the Phantom but Inspector Michel didn’t want to take any chances, emerging from his hiding spot and signalling for the other men to come out. At the sight of these strange men on the property the man broke out into a run. It was clear that his intent was to get to the woman and Raoul realised that she must had been telling the truth when she had called herself Madame. But it still didn’t mean that Christine wasn’t here. It was not impossible that the Phantom would employ a couple to look after his household.

“Who are you? What do you want?” the man, Armand, demanded, pushing his way past Raoul to stand in front of his wife.

Raoul stood there, stunned, as he took in the sight of the middle aged farmer wearing a mask that covered half of his face. “I...um...you wear a mask,” he said dumbly.

“Yes.” Armand confirmed, “Now can you please leave, I don’t want you or your men frightening my wife. We’ve got nothing that a man of your status could possibly want.”

“I am Inspector Michel with the Paris Sûreté,” the inspector introduced himself; “We are looking for an older man who wears a mask and recently married a young woman.”

“What does the Paris Sûreté want with me?” Armand asked, bewildered.

Inspector Michel turned to look at Raoul. It was obvious from the look on the Vicomte’s face that this was not the masked man they were searching for. He turned back to Armand and his wife, “I do apologise Monsieur, Madame. You are obviously not the man we were looking for. We shall leave immediately and I apologise again for any distress our presence here may have caused.”

Feeling more comfortable now that the inspector had taken charge of the situation, the woman asked curiously, “Why are you looking for this man?”

“We believe that he may be involved in the disappearance of a young woman in Paris.” He replied.

“Oh how dreadful!” the woman exclaimed. “But why did you think it was Armand?”

“This man,” Raoul spat, “Wears a mask very similar to your husband’s. He is obsessed with Christine, believes himself to be in love with her. When I heard that a masked man had recently married a younger woman, I believed that it would be them. That he had forced Christine to marry him. Obviously I was wrong.”

Neither Armand nor his wife asked who Christine was. Armand was slightly less sympathetic than his wife, displeased that his marriage was considered gossip in Paris and that these men had invaded his property and frightened his wife. He could see how close the nobleman had been standing to his wife and he shuddered to think what he would have done in his attempt to find this Christine if he hadn’t shown up. “Well I can assure you gentlemen that I have not forced my wife into anything. And I’ll once again ask that you please leave my property.”

“Of course,” Inspector Michel said, “Again I apologise for any distress we may have caused.”

“I’m sorry,” Raoul stuttered to the couple as the inspector started to usher his men away, “I thought that...I didn’t realise...” he stopped when he saw the hard look that Armand was giving him. “I’m sorry.” He repeated, before following the inspector off the couple’s property.

* * *

Raoul’s shoulders were slumped as he dragged himself through the door. He had been away for almost a week and he had nothing to show for it, he still didn’t know where Christine was or whether she was safe. A week away from Paris also meant that there would be stacks of invitations and business requests piled on his desk to attend to and he was well aware that they could not wait, lest Philippe discover that he had been neglecting his duties.

Georges greeted him as he walked into the foyer and relieved him of his bag, “Welcome home Monsieur le Vicomte.”

“Thank you Georges.” He replied wearily.

“It did not go as planned?” Georges asked, noticing the lack of a young woman.

“Not at all. It wasn’t them.” Raoul didn’t particularly want to discuss the matter with his valet, although he did appreciate the sentiment. Nonetheless he attempted to change the topic, “Can you ask one of the maids to draw me a bath?”

“Of course.” Georges nodded, “However there is a matter that requires your attention first.”

“Ugh. Can’t it wait?” he groaned. 

“I don’t believe so. There is a young woman in the east drawing room waiting to see you.” The valet explained.

“A young woman?” Raoul repeated.

“Yes Vicomte. She was quiet insistent that she would wait for you. She seemed to be aware that you were returning home today. A Mademoiselle Giry.” He sniffed. 

Choosing to ignore the valet’s obvious dislike of Meg for the moment, Raoul quickly made his way to the east drawing room and found Meg inspecting a vase. “Meg?” he greeted.

“Raoul,” she gasped, only fumbling slightly with the vase. She quickly placed it back down before stating, “You’re back.”

He nodded.

“Well?” she questioned, “It wasn’t them was it?” she asked sadly, peering at him more closely.

“I’m sorry. I was so sure.” He said, walking over to her.

“It’s not your fault,” she said gently, “But I don’t understand, how could it not have been them?”

“It was another man who wore a mask. Only his love was returned. They were happily married.” Raoul explained. 

“I can’t believe it.” Meg said, collapsing ungracefully on the lounge, “That there would be another man...”

“I know,” he agreed, dropping himself into a chair opposite Meg. “Their situation, it was so similar. Before I saw them I never would have dreamed that it could have been anyone but Christine and him.”

They both fell silent and the only noise came from a maid cleaning an adjacent room. On the ride back to Paris Raoul had had time to wrap his head around the idea of Armand and his wife but for Meg this was an outcome she had never even contemplated, despite what she had told Raoul at the theatre. Truthfully, she had foreseen two potential outcomes to this, either Christine returned home with Raoul or she freely chose to stay with the Phantom. Whichever way events turned out they would have known where Christine was. Instead their hopes had been raised, for the first time really, and they were left with nothing. Christine wasn’t with them, they didn’t know whether she was safe and Meg didn’t know what would happen now. She desperately hoped that this wouldn’t result in Raoul obsessively searching for Christine again and neglecting his own life. But she knew how the lead had reignited her need to find Christine; she could only imagine how it made Raoul feel. 

“What would you have done?” she asked suddenly, “If it had been them and she had been happy. Would you have made her come back?”

“Is that what you think? That I would have forced her to come back?” He responded, the hurt evident in his voice. “I am nothing like him; I would never force Christine to do anything. All I want is for her to be safe and happy.”

“Even if that was with him?” Meg pushed, needing to know the full answer.

“I...” he sighed, “I don’t know if he is capable of making Christine happy, and keeping her truly safe. Not from what I saw of him. But there was so much that Christine never told anyone about him, maybe she believed that he could. If she told me that this was what she wanted I wouldn’t force her away from him. I would only ever take her away if she wanted it.”

“What of your engagement?” she asked, worrying at the embroidery on a cushion. 

“What of it?” Raoul said, learning forward to look Meg in the eye, “Meg what do you think I would do? Do you think that I would force her back to Paris to honour our engagement? Is that why you think I’m trying to find her? I’m not like him Meg. You know me, surely you realise that I would never do anything like that.” 

“You’re in with love her,” she exclaimed, “You’ve shown that you are willing to give up anything and everything to find her. Of course you would still want to marry her. I’m not saying that you would force her, just that...I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“No I’m not.” He said quietly. “I’m not in love with Christine. I don’t think I ever was, not really.”

“What?”

“We were friends as children, and when we met again suddenly she was in danger and I could help her. I don’t know whether it was because it seemed like the natural step to take or because everyone seemed to expect it but somehow I found myself believing I was in love with her. But it was a combination of the Christine I knew as a child and the idea of her that I fell in love with, not the woman that she had become. I don’t think I really know the woman she has become. It has taken Christine being absent from my life to realise that.” He explained honestly, “I want her back because I want her to be safe and happy. I hate the idea of her being taken against her will. But I do not want her back simply to honour our engagement. If she still wants to marry, or heaven forbids she needs to marry, then of course I will marry her. But only for those reasons, I have no need or desire to force her to become my wife.”

“But everything you’ve done trying to find her. The money you must have spent, the hours you’ve spent searching for her.” Meg said, astonished at what she was hearing.

“It will all be worth it, even if I never find her. When Christine first disappeared, I did want to find her because I thought I was in love with her. But even though I have realised that that is not the case it doesn’t mean that I would stop searching for her. Christine deserves to be safe and happy. She is still my friend and yes, I want her home. Just as you do. Just as your mother does. But I’m not just doing this for me.” He said, looking intently at Meg. 

“What happens now?” Meg asked awkwardly, increasingly aware of the Vicomte’s gaze on her.

“We try and go back to the way things were and hope for news of Christine’s whereabouts.” Raoul said, trying to feel confident but wondering whether he could go back after such a disappointment.


	15. Madame Giry's Way

_ Three weeks later _

Madame Giry ran her fingers along the creases in the paper before sliding the letter back into the envelope. It was the news she had been wanting to hear for months, but with each response she had received that denied any knowledge of Christine she had started to lose hope. She had started to push the boundaries of her professional connections as people began to tire of her questions and she knew that if Christine had left Europe her methods would prove useless and she would have very little chance of tracking her. She traced the return address on the back on the envelope, Germany, and got to her feet, walking to the small sitting room that was adjacent to her bedroom. 

Meg was sitting on the chaise lounge, one foot tucked under her whilst the other swung lazily back and forward, brushing the floor. She was engrossed in a book and Madame Giry could make out the word ‘navy’ in the title. 

“Meg I have something I need to talk to you about,” she started, clutching the envelope tightly, as though the news would vanish if she weren’t careful.

Meg reached across to a side table to retrieve a bookmark, and closing the book placed it on the seat beside her before looking at her mother expectantly. 

“Since Christine disappeared I have been writing to theatres around Europe. asking them about any new singers that they have and whether they meet her description.” She admitted. 

“Maman! Why didn’t you tell me?” Meg asked, sitting forward.

“I didn’t want to raise your hopes.” Madame Giry said frankly, “I couldn’t help with the searches of the theatre or the surrounding areas, but a letter from the ballet mistress of the Opera Populaire would not be ignored.”

“You know how much I want Christine back, how hard I have been searching to try and find her. You should have told me.” Meg scolded.

“What good would it have done? Then two of us would have been disappointed every time I received a letter saying that there was no-one who met Christine’s description.” She replied harshly.

“Why did you write to the theatres? Why do you think Christine would be there?” Meg asked.

“If he took her, if,” Madame Giry emphasised, “I do not believe that he would want her to give up singing. I think that he would want her to share her gift. I thought that there was a possibility that he would have her singing in another theatre. With her voice no manager would turn her down, even if she claimed to have no experience on stage. And even if he hadn’t taken her, if she was alone, it would be the best way for her to make a living. So I wrote to other theatres, asking them whether they had recently hired any new sopranos, women who looked like Christine. Their name did not matter as she could easily use a false name, but perhaps a woman who was quiet and secretive about her past.”

“Or a woman who was recently married.” Meg added, remembering Raoul’s meeting with Armand and his wife. 

“I did mention that possibility in some of my letters, yes,” Madame Giry added cautiously.

“You still should have told me.” Meg repeated pointedly.

“Meg! I am telling you now.” She replied tightly. Upon looking at her mother’s hand and seeing how she was gripping the cane Meg decided not push the issue of her mother’s secrecy. 

“Why I am telling you now is because I received a letter from an opera house in Germany. They have recently had a young soprano join their company and from what they have said I believe that it could be Christine. Here.” She said, handing the letter to Meg.

In her eagerness to read the letter, Meg tore the envelope but paid no attention to it, tossing it to the side. She furrowed her brow as she read the letter, obviously written by someone who was not a native French speaker. She was noticeably calmer by the time she had finished reading the letter. “It certainly sounds like Christine. But then the couple in Burgundy sounded like Christine and the Phantom and it wasn’t them.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean we can ignore it.” Madame Giry said prudently.

“Of course not. I didn’t mean that.” Meg defended herself. “We should tell Raoul. Or have you already spoken with him?”

“I haven’t. But I do not know if that is the wisest thing to do.” Madame Giry placed Meg’s book and the discarded envelope on the table and sat down beside her.

“What do you mean? Of course we must tell Raoul.” Meg exclaimed. 

“Meg, everyone saw how obsessive the Vicomte became when Christine disappeared. He neglected every aspect of his life in his zeal to find her. I am afraid of what he might do if it is Christine. I am also afraid of what he might do if it is not her.” She said sadly.

“What he might do...” Meg said faintly.

“Remember what Inspector Michel told us about the couple in Burgundy? He almost forced his way into that woman’s home, convinced that she was lying and that Christine was hidden there. He was so certain that the Phantom had taken Christine and forced her to marry him. Even if it had been Christine and she had told him that she loved the Phantom and wanted to be married to him, do you think the Vicomte would have believed her? I believe that there is a very strong chance that this singer in Germany is Christine. Based on what the letter says I also believe that this woman is happy and as much as I want to know where Christine is, I don’t want to ruin her happiness through the Vicomte finding her and forcing her back to Paris because he’s convinced that she was abducted.” Madame Giry explained. 

“No Maman, you’re wrong,” Meg shook her head. “Raoul knows that Christine might be with him and he realises that there is a chance that she has chosen to go with him freely. He wants to know what has happened to her, whether she is safe and happy. And if she is happy then he will leave her in peace. He will only take her away if she wants to be taken away. He knows that he cannot dedicate the rest of his life to finding her, but he won’t ignore information such as this.” She waved the letter. “I know that it’s probably too soon after the couple in Burgundy, but we can’t do anything about that. I am going to tell him.”

Madame Giry stared at her daughter for a moment. “Are you absolutely certain of this?” 

“Yes.” Meg said resolutely.

“Alright.” She agreed, “But I do not want the Vicomte going to Germany to see if it is Christine on his own. I think that we should be the ones to go.”

“He won’t agree to stay behind in Paris. But I will convince him that it would be best for Christine if we were all there.” Meg decided.

* * *

Raoul was to attend the performance that evening so Meg gave a note to his box keeper, asking that it be passed to the Vicomte. She knew that it was highly improper for her to be sending notes to a patron but it was the quickest way to get in contact with him and she decided that it was worth the risk.

After the final scene Meg rushed back to the dressing rooms and exchanged her costume for the plain day dress she had been wearing that afternoon. She made her excuses to the other girls who were planning evenings of late suppers and dancing and made her way through the hidden passages of the theatre to the small sitting room. When she arrived he was already there, standing silhouetted near the window. He heard her arrive and turned smiling to greet her, “Meg you were wonderful tonight, as always.”

“Thank you,” she said, closing the door behind her after checking that there was no one in the hall watching her.

“Do you remember the last time we were in here?” he continued fondly.

“Yes,” she replied, wishing that tonight could be like that night, for she felt that it wasn’t going to end nearly as happily.

“Meg, what is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned by Meg’s attitude. “Are you alright?”

“Yes I’m fine,” she reassured him, “There’s nothing wrong, only Maman received some news today.”

“Are you certain, you seem worried.” He pressed, walking closer to her. 

“I promise. I’m just unsure as to what this news will mean.” Meg confessed, “Maman has been writing to theatres and opera houses across Europe, asking if they have any new singers who meet Christine’s description...”

“What? And she didn’t tell us?” Raoul interrupted.

“I agree, she should have told us, but she had her reasons.” She agreed, “But that isn’t important right now. She received this letter today.” Meg pulled the letter out of her pocket and presented it to Raoul. 

Meg held her breath, waiting for his reaction as he read the letter. She hoped that she would be able to keep her promise to her mother and prevent Raoul from rushing off to Germany without them.

“It’s her,” he breathed. “It has to be. I’ll go to Germany immediately, there’s a train I can catch first thing tomorrow morning to Luxembourg and I can find a train into Germany from there. And Philippe is back so he can take care of any family matters whilst I’m gone.” He started muttering to himself, trying to work out the finer details of his plan.

“No, Raoul, you can’t,” She protested, reaching out to rest her hand on his arm.

“Why not?” he asked, Meg’s denial and touch pulling him back to their conversation.

“Read the letter again,” she said gently. 

Raoul was puzzled at her request but nonetheless followed her instructions. When he was finished he looked across to Meg expectantly.

“What does that letter tell you?” she asked.

“That this woman could be Christine.” Seeing that Meg was about to interrupt he held up a hand to stall her, “I haven’t forgotten Meg. I’m not a complete fool. I know that this could be like last time, and this could just be another woman in a similar situation. But we have to find out either way. What if it is her and we never knew for certain? This won’t be like last time Meg; I won’t lose my head again. But I’ve got this...feeling that this time it really is her.”

“I didn’t mean that you wouldn’t go to Germany and see whether this woman is Christine. Of course we can’t just pretend that Maman never received this letter. But Maman thinks, and I agree, that we should go too. That way if it is Christine, she will have all of her family there.” Meg said.

“But you’re in the middle of the production!” Raoul spluttered, “You want to just leave Christine there whilst you finish.”

“The production will be finished in two weeks, you know that,” she said sensibly, taking the letter back from him, “And this woman, if it is Christine, she’s happy. If we go and find that it is her, I don’t think we will be bringing her back to Paris. Besides,” she continued, taking a deep breath, “I think that it will be good for you to wait two weeks. It will give you time to get used to the idea, rather than rushing off like last time. You agreed that you couldn’t have youf life revolving around searching for Christine anymore. That is why you can’t just run off the moment you hear anything that could be about her. And if it isn’t her, or even if it is her and she doesn’t want to come back to Paris, I don’t think you should be alone for that. Not again.”

“Maybe,” he replied, unconvinced, “The letter does make it sound like she is happy. And out of all the possible outcomes to this, that is what I want, for Christine to be happy. She probably can wait two weeks. I just don’t know if I can.”

“I know that you can.” Meg said with a quiet confidence. “We will find out whether it is Christine. Once the production is over Maman and I will be on holiday for a few weeks and we will accompany you to Germany. Two weeks will give you time to make proper travel arrangements.”

“Two weeks Meg?” He repeated.

“Raoul, please,” she beseeched, “I want you to promise me that you won’t run off to Germany on your own. Even if you can’t wait two weeks, tell me and we’ll go together, my understudy can take over my role. Just promise that you won’t leave without me.”

Raoul found that as much as he wanted to run to the train station and board the next train that would take him to Germany, his desire to make this promise to Meg, who was willing to give up her solo role to go with him, and not to disappoint her by breaking it was stronger. “I promise I won’t go without you,” he agreed, although he couldn’t promise that he would be able to wait two weeks.


	16. If Only

They walked into the sitting room of Raoul’s hotel room in silence, each one thinking about how the day’s events would impact upon what happened next. Raoul tossed his hat in the direction of the hat stand that stood near the entrance but didn’t even look back when it hit the ground. Meg dropped onto a lounge without an invitation; something Madame Giry would usually sharply reprimand her daughter for, however she decided that now was now not an appropriate time for a lecture on proper etiquette. 

“It wasn’t Christine,” Raoul said hollowly. 

“No it wasn’t,” Madame Giry confirmed. 

“What are we going to do now?” Meg asked. Her best friend was still out there and she wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to be able to keep this up. How many times would they need to chase down false hope until they found her?

“The rooms are ours for the next few days, and the train tickets are booked for Thursday evening. You two should enjoy the sights whilst you are here. You are on holidays after all.” Raoul suggested. He had been so sure that it was going to be Christine that he had booked the hotel for a week, believing that Christine wouldn’t have been able to leave immediately and that she would need time to make arrangements to return to Paris. Somehow in the two weeks that Meg had asked him to wait before coming to Germany he had convinced himself that whilst Christine may have been happy in Germany, she would be equally happy to leave this life behind and return to Paris when she saw Meg, Madame Giry and himself. There had been no doubt in his mind that Christine would be returning to Paris with them. 

“What about you?” Meg said, tilting her head back on the couch to look at Raoul, who was standing behind her. 

“I’ve been here before,” he shrugged.

“I think that it would be best if we returned to Paris.” Madame Giry decided. She knew that with Christine still missing Meg would get no joy from being in a foreign city and Raoul would not leave the hotel room, obsessing over Christine. It was pointless to remain.

“Are you certain?” Raoul asked, “I promise it will be no trouble to remain. Meg, aren’t there things that you would like to see whilst we are here?”

Meg shook her head, “No, Maman is right. We should go home.”

“It is decided then,” Madame Giry said, not wasting any time. “We will leave for Paris as soon as possible. Vicomte, where are the train tickets?”

“Oh. Um, they’re on the writing desk,” he replied, pointing to a small desk near the window. 

Madame Giry shuffled through the papers haphazardly scattered across the desk before she found their return tickets. “I will take these to the station and see if I can arrange an earlier departure.”

“Madame Giry you don’t have to do that,” Raoul protested, “I can arrange for the concierge to do it.”

“That won’t be necessary. Besides I believe the walk shall do me good.” That wasn’t entirely true but Madame Giry could see that the Vicomte wanted to talk about the day’s events with Meg and she knew that he would not feel free to do so whilst she was there. The small part of her mind that protested at the thought of her unmarried daughter being alone in a gentleman’s hotel room was silenced by the part of her that felt that the ensuing conversation could only help her daughter, as well as the Vicomte.

Meg and Raoul watched as Madame Giry departed and Raoul walked around to join Meg on the lounge.

“How did this happen again?” she asked soberly, “How is it that there are so many women out there whose lives could be mirrors of Christine’s?”

“I wish I had an answer for you Meg,” Raoul replied, “That we could avoid this heartache.”

“Perhaps we are seeing things that are not there.” She tried to reason, “There must be men other than him that are disfigured and need to wear a mask. It is reasonable to assume that some of them will marry and wives are often significantly younger than their husbands. And singers, they often move from city to city and I’m sure many of them are of a similar appearance to Christine. Just like there are many dancers who look like me.”

“Perhaps,” he murmured. He didn’t think he would ever forget the way his heart had fallen when the young soprano had walked out onto the stage, and it wasn’t Christine. They had taken on the role of tourists when they had arrived at the theatre, telling anyone who asked that they wanted to inspect the theatre before making a decision as to whether to purchase tickets to the performance that evening. When a manager had realise that Raoul was a Vicomte and was interested in using one of the boxes that evening he had been more than happy to allow them to wander through the theatre, even inviting them to watch rehearsals. 

They had tried to discretely sit close to the stage, hoping to hear something that would confirm that the newest soprano was Christine, however word had quickly spread that a French Vicomte was visiting and they were soon surrounded by flirtatious dancers and actresses. Realising they didn’t have a chance of seeing the singer surrounded like they were, they had swiftly excused themselves and moved to the safety of one of the boxes, where they were less likely to be interrupted. 

The music cued and a young woman walked onto the stage. Raoul knew immediately that this was the woman who had been written about in Madame Giry’s letter and that it was not Christine. Certainly both women were similar in stature, shape, age and had similar hair and it was clear from the woman’s entrance that she was playing a leading role in this production, but it wasn’t Christine. When the woman started to sing it only became more obvious. When Raoul had torn his eyes aware from the stage he had seen the sorrow and bitter disappointment that he felt reflected in Meg’s eyes. None of them had said much as they left the theatre, and Madame Giry had informed the manager that unfortunately they would not be returning. 

“I’m sorry,” Raoul’s apology broke the silence.

“It’s not your fault,” she reassured him.

“Isn’t it?” he questioned, “I think that perhaps it is. Maybe not Christine’s disappearance, no that is reserved for him, but everything that has happened since? I believe that is my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve practically forced you to put your life on hold to look for Christine. Look at this,” he said, sweeping a hand in front of him, “If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t be spending your holidays here.”

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Meg replied forcefully. “We’ve been over this. You know how much I want Christine back. I went down into the cellars that night trying to find her. Even without you I would have continued to search for Christine. Only with you I’ve been able to do so much more for her than I could have ever hoped to do on my own. Do you think that Maman and I would have been able to come here after she received that letter if it weren’t for you? We might never have known if it was Christine if she never told anyone who she really was. We would have been forced to wonder forever.”

“What must one do to inspire such devotion in you?” Raoul mused, sweeping his fingers across the patterns in the lounge.

“Pardon?” she said, slightly mesmerised by his fingers.

“It’s just, everything you have done for Christine, trying to find her. She is lucky to have such a generous, caring and devoted friend.”

Meg shrugged, blushing, “She’s my best friend. What else could I do?”

“And me, Meg. You have been such a wonderful friend to me. I hardly deserve it and I don’t know how I will ever be able to repay you for everything you have done for me.” Raoul twisted on the lounge so he could face Meg more fully. 

“Raoul, you don’t have to...”

“I know,” he interrupted, “It’s just that I don’t know how I would have managed the past months without you and I fear that I haven’t told you this nearly enough.”

“This isn’t necessary,” she smiled, “But thank you.”

“It is necessary Meg. You have put up with a lot from me, more than most people would have. I can see now how obsessive I became in searching for Christine and the fact that I’ve dragged you and your mother to a German opera house shows that I’m still not behaving in a manner than most people would call entirely sensible. And yet you’ve aided me in everything I’ve done, even if you thought the idea was ridiculous...”

“I never said any of your ideas were ridiculous,” Meg interrupted.

“Exactly! I know that you thought some of my ideas were ridiculous, truth be told so did I, but you never said anything, instead you just helped. I needed that Meg, I really did and there was no one other than you who was willing to give it to me. You have listen to me talk about Christine, the Phantom, the Sûreté, anything to do with this whole affair for hours and you have never once ignored what I’ve said or ridiculed me. I know what people have been saying behind my back, I always have, but I have never cared, even before all of this. After all I was going to marry Christine and you can imagine the scandal that would have caused. But I also need to apologise for anything that has been said about you. I am in a position where people can say what they like about me and it doesn’t really matter but your position in society is much more precarious than mine.” He explained, realising that this conversation was signalling another turning point in his feelings regarding these events. It was no longer just about finding Christine, it was also about Meg. 

“My position is not that precarious. The managers know that I am a good dancer and it helps that Maman works there as well. Like you I am willing to do what is necessary to find Christine. If the people at the opera house don’t understand that, or don’t care, then I do not mind what silly things they say about me.” She declared.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman as strong as you Meg.” He reached across to stroke her fingers, “You’re so brave, and intelligent. I think that you try to hide that sometimes, how smart you are. People see that you are a beautiful and talented dancer, but they don’t see what a wonderful woman you are. You are the one good thing that has happened to me since Christine went missing.”

“I...um...” she faltered.

He moved closer to her on the lounge and reached up to brush his hand across her cheek, “I don’t know what I would do without you,” he said hoarsely. Leaning in, he pressed his mouth against Meg’s and kissed her.

Meg froze at the rush of pleasure that seemed to race through her body when Raoul kissed her. Too stunned to move, she allowed him to kiss her, but when he deepened the kiss and pulled her closer to him, twisting his fingers into her hair, the reality of the situation hit her and she wrenched herself away from him and stood up. She remember what he had said, she was the best thing to happen to him since Christine had left. He didn’t want her. Even if he wasn’t in love with Christine, his thoughts were still preoccupied with her. 

“I know what you have been through these past months, but I will not allow you to use me to try and forget what has happened. I may just be a dancer but I have never allowed any nobleman to use me and I am not about to start now, not even for you. I will only be with a man who loves me completely, not one who is still chasing after another or hoping to forget.” With that she started walking to the door, intent on returning to the room she was sharing with her mother. 

“Meg, wait!” Raoul jumped to his feet and starting moving towards the door, but stopped before he got too close to her. “I’m sorry; I don’t know what came over me. You must know that I would never use anyone like that, least of all you. I would never disrespect you in that manner. Only...what I said is true, you are a wonderful woman Meg and I suppose I just got caught up in the moment. Please do not say that you are just a dancer, for you are so much more than that and one day there will be a man who will love you for everything that you are. Perhaps there already is.” He admitted. He knew that the circumstances of the kiss had not been ideal and he hated the thought that she had felt the need to pull away, but he couldn’t help the desire he had to kiss her again and hold her close to him. 

Her hand resting on the door knob, Meg twisted to face him. She knew that she could not allow things to develop in this manner. She couldn’t give him her heart or her body whilst he was always looking behind them, although she feared that he may already have taken her heart. “Only if he loved me entirely and wasn’t always looking back for another,” she said before opening the door and leaving. 

As she close the door behind her, he wondered if he had correctly interpreted her cryptic meaning, that she could love him if he was able to completely let go of Christine or whether she was referring to a man that she had not yet encountered. He didn’t know what he would do if she was talking about him. Did he want what was she was potentially offering, a life by her side? He was certainly attracted to her and he knew that she was a wonderful woman, but was that enough? More importantly, could he ever give her what she was asking for, or what she deserved?


	17. Christine's Letters

_ One month later _

Meg paused in the hallway to let a group of younger dancers rush by her. She rolled her shoulders trying to ease some of the tension that came from holding her arms in the same position for extended periods during rehearsal. Now that Mireille had finished they had started rehearsals for a new production that was due to open in a month. This new production had a much greater focus on the dance components than Mireille had and rehearsals seemed to last for twice as long, especially for those who had obtained solo roles. After her success in Mireille the managers had insisted that Madame Giry give her daughter a larger solo role in the new production and whilst Meg was thrilled her body was protesting the abuse that she was putting it through in order to make every step perfect.

She could still hear the girls’ giggling echo down the hall as she entered her dormitory and it was only when she closed the door that the world was silent once more. Collapsing onto the bed she noticed that a thick envelope had been propped up against her hair brush on the small table beside her bed. Many of the other girls did not have family in Paris and they would often receive letters or packages that the mail clerk would leave in a spot by their bed where they would be certain to see it. As Meg had no family outside the opera she had never received a letter in this manner, any notes from Raoul being delivered in a slightly more discrete manner. 

Snatching the letter up greedily, she gasped when she recognised the author’s handwriting as that of Christine and tore at the wax seal to get the envelope open. As she unfolded the letter, another smaller letter, again sealed with wax, fell into her lap. Glancing down at the second letter, she turned it over and saw that it was addressed to Raoul. Hoping that the first letter would explain the presence of the second one, she placed Raoul’s letter on the table and turned her attention back to the letter that was addressed to her.

_Dearest Meg,_

_I have so much to say to you I scarcely know where to start._

_How I have missed you these past months my dear friend. I have found that I have spent many hours reminiscing about the time we have spent together, the hours spent in rehearsals, practising our steps over and over again, when we would go window shopping past the most expensive boutiques in all of Paris and how we would continue to whisper to each other in bed after the lights had been turned out and we were supposed to be sleeping. Sometimes I will wonder what you are doing at a particular moment, whether you are performing a solo dance yet or who you are sharing your secrets with. I wonder about the opera house as well, whether Carlotta is still the diva or whether the managers have finally learned the different between a tenor and a bass._

_However the Populaire is not my reason for writing._

_I know that I must apologise for what has occurred and that I have caused you and your mother much heartache. A letter is a poor substitute for an apology delivered face to face, but for the moment it is all that I can offer. I apologise with all my heart for the worry that I must have caused and the hurt that you would have felt when I didn’t came back after that night. I wish that I could undo everything that you have gone through and can only hope that this letter will go some way towards making amends._

_I learned that you and Madame Giry travelled to Germany with Raoul in your efforts to find me. I fear that this is another event that I must apologise for. You often spoke of your desire to one day travel outside of France and your first trip was no doubt a sombre affair, without any opportunities to see the wonders that you were surrounded by._

_I know that it will sound terribly silly and selfish, but I honestly did not expect that any search for me would become so widespread. It was foolish of me to so underestimate you and Raoul, and I am not certain whether I want to thank you or scold you for your actions. I fear however, that I do not deserve them. I wish that I could have written you sooner, please do not think that it was my intention to cut myself from your life completely. However there have been circumstances which have meant that it has not been possible for me to write until now. However if I had of known just how extensive your search had become I would have done everything possible to find a way to have contacted you sooner._

_As well as apologising there is another purpose for my letter. I ask that you please stop searching for me. Not only for your sake, but for mine as well. I am safe Meg, and I am happy. I will be even happier knowing that you and Raoul are happy and enjoying your lives, and that you are not spending your lives trying to find me. I know that you and Raoul have been searching for me because you believe that I have been taken against my will or that I am in danger, but that is not the case. My life is very different now to what it was at the opera house, although I still sing, but it is mine and I am happy with it. Again I wish that I could have told you this sooner, so that you hadn’t spent the past months needlessly searching for me, however the past cannot be undone._

_I hope that you can forgive me enough to grant me one last favour. As you have no doubt already seen, I have enclosed a letter for Raoul. I hope that you are able to give this to him and explain to him what I have told you. Rather than sent his letter to the de Chagny estate where he would no doubt read it alone, I hope that this way you can be there for him as he reads it. I believe that he will need you more than ever and I hope that you are able to move on from this chapter in your lives together._

_I miss you so much Meg and I hope that one day we will see each other again._

_All my love,_

_Christine_

* * *

_Dear Raoul,_

_I must start by reassuring you that I am safe. I hope that Meg has already explained the contents of her letter to you but I feel that I ought to tell you as well. I am safe and my life is good, I am happy._

_I know that what I have caused you to endure since I re-entered your life is almost unforgivable, but that will not stop me from trying to make amends. It was never my intention to hurt you or cause you any pain, but I suppose that rarely does one intend to hurt a friend or loved one. I beg you to please accept my apologies for everything that happened in Paris and all that I have inadvertently put you through since then. I know that you went to Germany in search of me, and that you have spent months searching the theatre and Paris trying to find some clue as to where I have gone. I wish that I could have gotten word to you earlier that the search was not necessary however it has not been possible until now. If there was a way for me to take away your pain, and Meg’s, I would do it in a heartbeat. The impact that I feel this must have on your lives is also something that I wish I could undo for you. I only hope that you have gained something positive from the past months._

_It seems that at the same time you came to the Opera Populaire my life suddenly took a dramatic turn away from what I expected and I was able to take comfort in your presence. Sometimes I felt that every time I turned around something in my life had changed and you were there, and you were a familiar face amongst all the strangeness and you wanted to help me and I let you. Looking back I know that this was not the right thing to do, for anyone. Please do not mistake my meaning here, my actions and my feelings during that time were true, only I can see now that it was not the path we should have taken._

_When you first came to the theatre I immediately remembered the wonderful summer we had spent together. You had been such a dear friend and I was eager to resume our friendship. I hoped that it would be like we had never been apart and that our friendship would continue. But then with everything that happened our friendship suddenly seemed to evolve into something else and before I knew it we were engaged._

_I can see now that the love we shared was not the love that is shared between a husband and wife. It was the love of children, and whilst that is a wonderful thing it should not be the basis of a marriage. Certainly not a marriage that would be subject to much public scrutiny, which ours surely would have been. Whilst I am confident that we would have been happy together, I fear that we both would have missed out on something wonderful, the passion that should be in every marriage. Therefore I must tell you that I cannot marry, not after everything that has occurred. I hope that over the past months you have reached this conclusion as well and that this news is not a surprise to you. If you have not then I must apologise once more for hurting you and hope that this is what you need to move past the childhood love that we shared. I am certain that there is a woman with whom you will be able to share the type of love that I know you deserve._

_Once again I must ask for your forgiveness for all of the hurt and pain that I have caused you and I hope that if we do meet again one day, it will be as friends. Please do not turn away from Meg in the coming days, for I have hurt her as well. Be there for her, like I know that she has been there for you and I know you will both be stronger for it. Together you can now move on with your lives._

_Your childhood friend,_

_Christine_

“Well?” Meg asked as Raoul placed the letter in his lap.

“I’m...not quite sure what to think. She really doesn’t need us, need me, to help her, does she?” He said slowly.

“She doesn’t,” Meg agreed, “She’s happy and safe. That’s what we have wanted all along, to know that she was alright.”

“Can we be sure,” Raoul asked, reaching across the pick of Meg’s letter from the table, “How do we know that he didn’t force her to write this?”

“Because of this,” Meg plucked the two letters away from Raoul and gathered them together before fanning through the sheets of paper, “When Christine is unhappy she stops communicating, she won’t talk to you, she won’t write anything down. These are quite long letters. If she was unhappy and being forced to write to us, to stop us searching for her, she would have written half a page at most. She would have said that she was safe and to stop searching for us. She wouldn’t have gone into all this detail.”

“I didn’t realise that,” Raoul whispered, almost sadly, “You would think that with everything that happen I would have picked up on that. I was going to marry her, how could I not know something so important about her?” He knew that when Meg was angry she would rant and kick the furniture. When she was sad, she would grow quiet and fidget with whatever was nearby and when she cried her eyes would immediately become puffy and red. But he didn’t know half of that about Christine.

Meg didn’t know what to say, so she separated the two letters and placed them back on the table. Still leaning forward she said, “You know this should be a happy occasion, even though Christine isn’t here with us.”

“I know and of course I am relieved beyond words to know that Christine is happy and safe. I don’t like that she didn’t say where she actually is. Where is the envelope?” he asked suddenly, “Maybe there is something on that which will say where she is.”

“Raoul no. She said she is happy and safe, that is all we need to know. If she wanted us to know where she was she would have told us. Perhaps she hasn’t settled anywhere.” Meg said firmly, “Besides, I already checked the envelope, there was nothing on it,” she admitted, ducking her head.

“Meg,” Raoul scolded her lightly, although she was pleased to see him smile. “Well I suppose that means it is all over then.”

“Hmm?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“The searching, the looking for Christine. It really is over. I never thought that it would end like this, knowing that Christine was alright but not really knowing where she was. It felt like it was never going to end, that I was going to be searching for her for the rest of my life, but now I really do need to let go.”

“You do,” Meg confirmed softly.

“I’ll hardly know what to do with myself.”

“You’ll do what you did before. Besides I’m sure that the Comte will be able to find plenty that he wants you to do,” Meg said, remembering past conversations where Raoul had complained about the parties and dinners that his brother wanted him to attend. 

“Ah yes Philippe. He will be thrilled to know that Mademoiselle Daae is safe and well,” Raoul said in a very poor imitation of his older brother. 

“Don’t be like that,” Meg said, trying to hide her smile, “You know that he cares about Christine in his own way. He really has been quite understanding, especially when you ran off to Germany with a ballet rat and her mother.” She added, trying to lighten the mood.

“I know, I know. I’m being childish,” he admitted, oblivious to Meg’s attempt to cheer him, “It just...we might never see Christine again. I was going to marry her. Even after I realised that maybe we wouldn’t marry, I still thought that Christine would be in my life for the rest of our lives. And now she’s asking us to leave her wherever she is and she’s given no indication that she ever plans to return to Paris. This might be it, this letter, the last we ever hear of her.”

Meg sat silently beside him, trying to absorb what he was saying, “No,” she decided, “We can’t think like that. Christine didn’t say that we wouldn’t see her again, she talks of meeting again one day. She is telling us to move on with our lives and be happy and I think that we should do what she asks of us.”

“Alright,” Raoul agreed.

“Alright?”

“Yes, alright.” He smiled. “I think that it will take time to completely adjust, but from this moment on I will no longer look for Christine. She has told us that she doesn’t need to be saved and you believe that she is telling the truth and I trust that you know your best friend. Tomorrow morning I will speak with Inspector Thierry and explain that Christine has been in contact with me and that he can close the case.”

“And then?” Meg asked.

“And then I will take Orion for a long ride and finish the book that I started reading months ago. And you Meg, what will you do?” he asked.

“I still have rehearsals, Monsieur Patron, or have you forgotten already about the new production?” she teased.

“Of course I haven’t forgotten,” he replied indignantly.

“Good, so I will see you on opening night,” Meg declared.

“Uh no. I don’t think Philippe was planning on attending, someone is holding a dinner in the country that he wants us to attend.” Raoul explained.

“Oh,” Meg said, disappointed. “Well I’m sure that we will see each other some other time.”

“Of course,” he agreed immediately. But would they, he wondered. Now that they were no longer searching for Christine what reason would they have to see each other? He was sure that as Meg’s career progressed the managers would want her to interact with the patrons more, but that wouldn’t be the same. He had seen this woman nearly every day for the past months, how would he cope with her being suddenly cut from his life, at the same time he was trying to come to terms with Christine being gone. 

There was a knock at the door, “Monsieur le Vicomte, Meg.” Madame Giry’s voice said on the other side of the door.

“Yes Maman?” Meg replied, inviting the older woman in.

Madame Giry relaxed upon seeing her daughter and the Vicomte sitting calmly side by side. She assumed that this meant the Vicomte had reacted well to Meg’s news. “I apologise for the interruption Monsieur le Vicomte, but the managers have heard that you are here and are insisting on speaking with you. I thought it best that you find them first.”

“Of course,” Raoul said, getting to his feet. “Thank you Madame Giry.” Turning back to Meg he said, “We will speak soon.”

“Of course,” she echoed. But as she watched him leave the room she wondered when she would actually see him again. After all, now that they were no longer searching for Christine, what reason would a Vicomte have to spend time with a dancer?


	18. What's Been Missing

_ Two months later _

Raoul placed his empty glass on the tray of a passing footman before turning back to his brother, “I’m sorry Philippe, what were you saying?”

“Honestly Raoul I don’t where your head has been lately. I thought now that the Christine matter had been resolved you would start paying more attention to the other things in your life.” Philippe sighed.

“I said that I would and I have,” he disputed, “I’ve attended every event that you’ve asked me to. I think you’ve introduced me to more people, especially ladies, in the past few weeks than I have met in the past five years.”

“Oh yes, you’ve attended every event but your mind hasn’t been there. You haven’t been paying any attention and your thoughts have obviously been elsewhere.” Philippe explained, taking another sip from his drink. “I’ve introduced you to some of the loveliest ladies I know, all very eligible, and you’ve barely glanced at them.”

“That’s not true. I spent all evening with Brigette Rochechouart at the dinner Lord Valois held a fortnight ago.” Raoul pointed out.

“And we both know that you have no intention of pursuing anything with her.” Philippe said, nodding an acknowledgement to a passing gentleman.

“What is this about Philippe? Are you trying to marry me off?” Raoul said half jokingly.

“No. I’m just pointing out that your heart doesn’t seem to be in anything you do lately. Everyone can see it. Even my solicitor mentioned it to me after you had that meeting with him about the properties up north.”

“I didn’t realise,” Raoul murmured, “The meeting with the solicitor, I didn’t ask him to do anything foolish did I?” As he thought about it Raoul realised that he had been somewhat absent minded lately, the servants having questioned a number of his more bizarre requests in recent weeks.

“No, no, nothing like that.” Philippe reassured his brother, “You’ve been doing a fine job with all the accounts and patronages, but you just haven’t been yourself. You’re playing the part quite admirably. But that’s all you’re doing, your heart isn’t in it like it used to be. The happiest I’ve seen you lately was when we went to the opera last week.”

“Philippe, I’ve moved past everything that has happened with Christine. Wherever she is she is happy, and that’s what I want for her.” Raoul said, concerned that Philippe would think that he was still distracted with thoughts of Christine and was about to run off again the moment he heard of any potential sightings of her. Over the past weeks he had become more comfortable with the idea of leaving Christine in the past. He could accept that she was happy in her new life, wherever and with whomever that was, and he trusted Meg’s instincts when she said that Christine’s letters were freely written.

“I know, I’m not saying that you haven’t. Now, now’s obviously not the time to be talking about this,” Philippe gestured to the people dancing around them, “But please think about it.” With that Philippe walked into the crowd, intend on finding a dance partner.

“I will,” Raoul replied, feeling slightly bewildered. This was what his life had been a year ago, before he started undertaking the family’s patronage duties at the Opera Populaire and Christine came back into his life. Surely he shouldn’t have any trouble readjusting to his old life. Certainly in the first few weeks after they had received the letters from Christine he had spent a significant amount of time thinking about her, but that had allowed him to adjust to the idea of moving on without her. But his thoughts of her were becoming fewer and fewer and he was fairly certain that he hadn’t even spoken her name recently. He had been spending a lot of time involved in family matters, perhaps that was the issue. He needed to spend less time involved in business and more time doing the things that he used to enjoy. Deciding to follow his brother’s example, Raoul straightened his sleeves and walked into crowd, looking for a partner for the next dance. 

An hour later he was holding the hand of young woman, a girl really, whose name he had forgotten. Raoul’s thoughts drifted once again and he began to wonder how many hours he must have spent dancing in his life. He remembered the lessons he had attended, with much protestation, and how he had been taught where to place his hands and the exact steps to take. The entire process was very proper and he felt that he spent so much time making sure he was leading his partner in the right direction that he wasn’t able to enjoy himself. It was strange that he had never noticed this and how he had previously quite enjoyed dancing. Could it have really been that the last time he had truly enjoyed a dance was before Christine, he wondered as he changed partners. His thoughts briefly drifted to the short dance he had enjoyed with Christine before the Phantom had appeared, before he remembered a more recent dance that he had enjoyed. The dance he had shared with Meg on the opening night ball for Mireille. 

Raoul smiled as he remembered the dance, earning him a puzzled look from the woman he was currently dancing with. He schooled his features into a more appropriate expression but allowed his thoughts to linger on that night. It had been difficult, attending a ball at the Opera Populaire, but the dance with Meg had made the entire night worthwhile. At some stage before Raoul had stumbled across her, Meg had removed her gloves, and when he had taken her hand to dance he had been able to feel warm skin against his own. Raoul didn’t think that he could put a name to the dance that they had shared, for whilst it had started as a waltz they had gradually just started moving together in time with the music, Meg’s natural grace and skill influencing his own movements. By the end of the dance he had been holding her much closer than could be considered proper, but the privacy of the sitting room meant that there was no one to comment. 

The song came to an end and Raoul immediately let go of his current partner, giving her a polite bow and applauding for the musicians. When he had danced with Meg he had been so caught up in the feeling of having her in his arms that he hadn’t even noticed when the music stopped. She had looked so beautiful that night and whilst they had been dancing no other thought had crossed his mind. She seemed to have the ability to always make him smile, no matter how miserable he had felt before seeing her. 

Meg was missing from his life, he realised with a start. Once again the person he was standing next to gave him a strange look but he didn’t care. Meg was missing from his life. Previously he had spoken with her nearly every day, and now he hadn’t seen her in weeks. How could he have been so foolish as to let her slip from his life? He had seen her from a distance on a few occasions at the opera but he literally had not spoken to her since the day she had given him Christine’s letter. Philippe, his mother and their friends and acquaintances would probably say that now that the search for Christine had been resolved he had no reason to speak to Meg and Raoul began to understand that he had allowed this to stop him from seeing Meg. His brother wanted him to be happy and yet it was his brother who was inadvertently discouraging him from seeing Meg.

He couldn’t allow this to continue. He needed Meg in his life and he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him, not even his brother. Tomorrow night, he decided, he would attend the performance at the opera and ask Meg to supper. For once he was going to spend time with her for no other reason than he wanted to. There would be no discussion of Christine or the Phantom, it would just be Meg and himself. And maybe he would be able to tell her how much he missed her.

* * *

“Thank you,” Meg said graciously as she accepted a flower and a compliment from one of the young nobleman waiting at her dressing room door. With her second solo dance, visitors at her dressing room were becoming more and more frequent and it was not uncommon for her to arrive at her dressing room after a performance to find a group of admirers vying for her attention. But she considered it just another role to play and her dressing room door was simply an extension of the stage. Whilst she was polite, charming and funny she had no real interest in any of these young men and she knew that they were only interested in her because she was a dancer, they had no real interest in her as an individual. 

As the first admirer stepped aside and another took his place, Meg spotted a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye lingering further up the hallway. “Raoul,” she breathed.

“Excuse me?” the young man who was currently attempting to invite her to supper asked. 

“What?” Meg shook her head, “’I’m sorry. I’m afraid that I have somewhere else I must be,” she decided, stepping away from the gentleman and into the hallway.

“Perhaps you would care to join me for supper tomorrow night,” he attempted his invitation again rather desperately, as Meg dashed down the hall. 

“Perhaps,” she called back offhandedly, hoping that he wouldn’t attempt to follow her tonight. 

Turning the corner she was relieved to see that Raoul hadn’t left, but had removed himself from the view of the other men. She briefly thought that chasing after a man whilst still in costume was not the most lady-like behaviour she could have exhibited, but she didn’t particularly care. “Raoul,” she greeted.

“Meg,” he replied, smiling broadly, “You were wonderful.”

“Thank you.” She said sincerely, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you of course. I was hoping you would join me for supper tonight, I have something I wish to speak with you about.” He said quickly, before he lost his nerve. 

What could he wish to talk to her about, Meg wondered. She hoped that he hadn’t had news of Christine and wanted to go searching for her again. She couldn’t think of any other reason for Raoul to want to go to supper with her and the thought made her heart ache a little. Still if he believed that Christine did need help then she would do whatever was necessary, including being there to pick up the pieces. “Of course,” she said with a smile that appeared somewhat forced to Raoul, making him wonder whether she really did want to go to supper with him or whether she was just being polite. “Just give me half an hour to get ready.”

* * *

Although she had shared many meals with Raoul, this was by far the impressive restaurant Meg had ever been to. He had arranged a private room at one of the most exclusive restaurants in Paris and Meg felt slightly overwhelmed as the maître d' led them to their table and seemed to be willing to cater to their every whim. Naturally Raoul appeared completely at ease and Meg allowed him to select her meal and take the lead in the conversation as they ate.

“That was delicious,” Meg commented as their dessert plates were cleared.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Philippe is quite fond of that particular dessert of well,” Raoul replied, “You will have to have it again next time.”

Meg found that last comment somewhat strange, but chose not to mention it. “Raoul, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?” she said bluntly. She couldn’t understand why he had not raised the issue yet. Over the course of the evening she had convinced herself that Raoul had heard news of Christine and wanted her assistance again in trying to find her.

“Right,” Raoul said awkwardly, “I had been hoping to weave it into our conversation tonight, but I suppose I haven’t done a very good job of that.”

Meg was even more confused, they had spoken of nothing this evening remotely connected to Christine’s disappearance. “How could you weave it into our conversation?”

“I suppose I should just come out and say it,” he mused.

Deciding that she couldn’t take the suspense any longer, Meg blurted out, “It’s about Christine, isn’t it?”

At the same time Raoul decided that he just needed to say it, “I’ve missed you Meg.”

“What?” they both asked at the same time. The blunder that normally would have lightened the mood between them did not have it’s usually effect and Raoul gestured for Meg to repeat her comment.

“What you wanted to talk to me about, its Christine isn’t it? You’ve heard from her or you’ve heard about someone who sounds like Christine.” Meg said, the resignation clear in her voice.

“What? No.” Raoul said, shocked, “Is that why you thought that I invited you to supper? Because I wanted your help in trying to find Christine again? I suppose I deserve that,” he sighed. “I should have come to see you again after we received Christine’s letters and I know how it looks that I didn’t.”

“That isn’t the reason then?”

“No. Meg, I invited you to supper because I’ve missed you. Tremendously.” He admitted.

“Really?” she squeaked.

“Yes. I’ve missed our friendship Meg. I know that my actions in the past didn’t always correspond with what I said, but I have valued your friendship over the past months so much. And it wasn’t because you helped me when I was looking for Christine, it’s because you are such a wonderful person. In some ways, and I can scarcely believe I am admitting this after everything we went through, something good did come out of Christine disappearing, because it gave me a chance to get to know you. I would never have had that otherwise. I was at a party the other evening and Philippe was commenting that it seemed like I was missing something in my life. My life was exactly the same as it had been before Christine, I should have been happy. But there was something missing. And I realised it was you. I need you in my life Meg and I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she confessed in a small voice. In the first weeks after Christine’s letters had arrived Meg had held out a small amount of hope that Raoul would want to continue their friendship. But as the weeks went by she began to lose hope and started scolding herself for believing that a Vicomte would want a friendship with a dancer. Of course he wouldn’t have wanted to spend time with her now that they knew Christine was safe. She wondered why it had taken so long for Raoul to come back to her if he had missed her as much as he said, but decided to talk to him about that at a later time. 

“Good. So you’ll accompany me to supper again on Wednesday evening after the performance?” he asked, eager to see her again as soon as possible. “Assuming of course you do want to see me again?” he added, his nervousness coming through once more. 

“Of course I do,” Meg smiled, thrilled to know that the friendship they shared would continue. “And I will.”


	19. Everyone But Them

Once again the Vicomte de Chagny became a frequent visitor to the Opera Populaire, both during the day and for performances each evening. However, this time there was no undercurrent of fear and worry behind his visits and it seemed that he had returned to the gallant and charming young patron that he had been when he had first come to the theatre. Messieurs Andre and Firmin were more than happy to forget the events of the past year and made sure that their patron’s every request was granted and the only meetings held behind closed doors related strictly to the de Chagny patronage. Philippe had been concerned at first that his younger brother was redeveloping his obsession with finding Christine but soon realised that it was another young woman who was attracting Raoul to the theatre so often, although Raoul was exasperatingly oblivious.

The rumours quickly started about the relationship between the Vicomte and Meg. Both Raoul and Meg were frustratingly silent about the nature of their relationship and there was fierce debate as to whether they were friends, lovers or even engaged. The entire theatre knew that the Vicomte had been engaged to the star soprano so it was assumed that he would be willing to marry a dancer who was becoming a star in her own right, however no announcement was forthcoming and no one had actually seen anything that would suggest they were lovers. The nastier members of the corps believed that Meg’s solo roles were a result of the Vicomte’s influence; however those dancers who were friends with Meg would rush to her defence, arguing that Meg had been starting to dance solo roles before her involvement with the Vicomte and that no one had seen anything improper occur between the two. 

Raoul took advantage of the de Chagny box, coming to virtually every performance. At first he was able to convince Philippe to attend with him when he was available, but Philippe soon grew tired of watching the same operas repeatedly. He eventually put his foot down and told Raoul that he would attend opening night and one performance, but no more. If Raoul wanted to attend every performance, he would have to do so alone. Raoul tried to convince his friends to come, but they too soon grew tired of attending. However this didn’t deter him and he attended every performance he could, until he had memorised each production.

Each evening he would stand apart from the group of men that would gather at Meg’s dressing room door waiting to catch a glimpse of her. He would watch as she politely accepted their compliments and flowers, and declined their invitations to supper, before stepping forward to escort her away. Often he would take her to supper himself, but many evenings they would simply escape to a quieter part of the theatre, where they would talk late into the night. Over the weeks Raoul found that he was becoming more impatient in the evenings as he watched the men pointlessly vie for her attention, eager to whisk her away himself. He sometimes wondered whether people saw him in the same way, a love struck young nobleman with no hope of having his affections returned. To him it seemed that Meg treated him in just the same way as she had treated him when they were searching for Christine and he was hesitant to push for a relationship that she didn’t want. After what he had put her through he would not be surprised if she were reluctant to open her heart to him. He started to wonder whether he had been wrong in Germany and that Meg would only ever care for him as a friend, regardless of whether he was able to completely put Christine in the past. But his feelings were getting stronger every day and he didn’t know how much longer he could pretend that he wasn’t in love with her and didn’t want her as his wife. 

Raoul and Meg were also frequently found in one another’s company during the day, as Raoul would often ensure that he was near the Opera Populaire at midday, so he was able to take Meg to lunch at a nearby cafe. After lunch he would often remain at the theatre to watch rehearsals. Whilst he would claim that he was just ensuring that his family’s investment was being well looked after, not one person in the theatre believed this excuse. However the managers did not mind. If it had been a lesser patron monopolising the time of Mademoiselle Giry, they would have been reminding her of her duties in representing the Opera Populaire. But the de Chagnys were amongst the most generous patrons for the theatre and none of the more generous patrons had expressed any interest in Meg, so they were happy to let the Vicomte claim her. 

However whilst the managers were more than happy to allow Raoul and Meg to continue in whatever fashion they chose, the performers were not and Meg found herself facing a daily barrage of questions. She played the coy and carefree woman, ignoring the insults and refusing to confirm or deny anything about her relationship with Raoul and she enjoyed making Raoul laugh with some of the more outrageous rumours she heard. But whilst her friends would insist that the Vicomte was head over heels in love with her and had eyes for no one else, privately Meg dismissed this as rumours created by young girls eager for a romantic story. 

After Raoul’s kiss in Germany and their obscure confessions, Meg had started to believe that there was a possibility that he would return her feelings. The letters from Christine appeared to be the trigger that Raoul needed to truly move on from Christine and he had sought her out after weeks apart. But whilst they were constantly spending time together, Raoul gave no indication that he desired anything other than friendship from her and Meg started to wonder whether he was still in love with Christine or perhaps, since Christine was gone, whether he wanted a woman who was like Christine and one day when he found that woman he would leave Meg. Raoul would want a woman who could easily slip into the role of Vicomtess and be mistress of the De Chagny estate, not one who ran around an opera house wearing men’s trousers. But Meg knew that there were other more important obstacles, for she was still only a dancer, whilst he was a Vicomte and it was a well known fact that noblemen didn’t marry performers. Still Meg couldn’t bring herself to end their friendship and she continued to hold onto a tiny hope that one day he would love her. 

With the exception of those closest to Raoul and Meg, namely Philippe and Madame Giry, no one knew of the insecurities that plagued the young couple and the usual comments could be heard floating through the theatre as Raoul escorted Meg away from the building for a walk in a nearby park one afternoon.

He didn’t know if it was his imagination but Raoul felt certain that Meg stood closer to him than normal when she took his arm and he decided to see it as a positive sign. He hoped that it meant she would return his feelings and that they could start to share something greater than the friendship they already had. He tucked his arm in closer to his body, compelling Meg to follow, and was thrilled when she smiled up at him. 

They spoke of inconsequential matters as they slowly walked to the park, enjoying one of Meg’s rare afternoons off. Meg spoke of rehearsals and how the youngest ballet rats were progressing, whilst Raoul talked about a party he was to attend later that week and recalled Philippe’s recent attempt at horse riding, something he hadn’t done in close to ten years. 

As they wandered deeper into the park, Raoul grew silent, a thoughtful look appearing on his face.

“Raoul?” Meg asked, nudging him slightly, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said, Meg’s voice immediately luring him back to reality, “I just remembered something...Come with me!” he exclaimed, unlinking their arms so he could grasp her hand and pull her along. 

“Wait, where are we going?” Meg said, stumbling to keep up.

“You’ll see,” was the only answer Raoul gave as he dragged her to a deserted corner of the park.

When they finally stopped they were both breathless and Meg couldn’t help but laugh at their escapades and the numerous scandalised looks they had received from other park visitors. 

“What was...?” Meg was silenced when Raoul brought a finger up to her lips.

“Shh, look.” He instructed. Meg did as she was told and looked at her surroundings. Raoul had lead her to an isolated area of the park, a small area that had been allowed to grow wild amongst the cultivated grounds, almost entirely surrounded by tall trees that blocked out the rest of the world. She could faintly hear bird song in the distance, but other than that it was silent.

“I would never have known...” she breathed, “How did you find this spot?”

“I used to play here when I was a child,” he said softly, not wanting to break the tranquillity, “I haven’t been here in years. I don’t know what suddenly made me remember it.”

“I don’t know how you could every forget this,” Meg said, still looking around in wonder, “It’s beautiful.”

But Raoul wasn’t looking at the surrounding gardens; instead he was staring intently at the woman in front of him. “You are beautiful,” he said hoarsely, suddenly overwhelmed by the love he felt for her and knowing that he couldn’t hide it any longer.

Meg immediately blushed and brought her hand up to her face to brush away an errant hair, “I’m not,” she protested, “There are girls at the theatre who are much more...”

“No,” he interrupted, bringing a hand up to stroke her cheek, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.” With that he leaned closer to Meg and brought his head down to gently kiss her.

His mouth moved slowly but insistently against her’s and for a moment Meg was frozen beneath him, not believing that this could be real. As his tongue brushed her lower lip she realised that the man she loved wanted her and was kissing her and she pushed her lips more firmly against his.

Raoul groaned as he felt Meg responding to him and pulled her flush to him. Slowly he coaxed her mouth open and brushed his tongue against her’s. He had never imagined that kissing Meg would feel this good. The kiss he had bestowed on her in Germany was nothing compared to this. She brought her arms up around his neck, stroking his skin before burying her fingers into his hair. He tightened his grip around her waist before lifting her up against him, so he didn’t have to lean down to kiss her.

Gradually they both grew breathless and their kisses slowly ended. Panting, Raoul continued to hold Meg up against him, not yet willing to let her go, resting his forehead against her’s. “You are beautiful,” he repeated, “And you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. “You’re kind, thoughtful, intelligent, talented. You’re probably the bravest person I know as well. I don’t think anything that’s happened in the past months has scared you and every crazy idea I had, every time I wanted to go into the cellars, you were there with me, you never once shied away. You have a wonderful heart Meg and I saw it in everything that you did trying to find Christine, the way you stand up for your mother and the way you look after the little ballet rats. And I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“I love you too,” Meg whispered, giving Raoul a soft, tender kiss. “I have for a while now. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid that you didn’t want me, not in that way. That you...” she trailed off.

“Was still in love with Christine,” he concluded for her.

“Yes,” she said, breaking eye contact. “I know that you said you weren’t but...”

Raoul gently lowered Meg to the ground and tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. “The only woman I am in love with is you. I should have told you weeks ago, but I was afraid that after everything I had done you wouldn’t be able to return my feelings.”

“Oh Raoul, no.” Meg interrupted.

“Christine will always be a dear friend, a sister.” He continued, “But you are the one I want to spend my life with. No one could ever make me as happy as you do and I can’t imagine my life without you. I want you with me forever, as my wife.”

“What?” she gasped.

“Marry me Meg, please.” Raoul asked, intertwining his fingers with her’s and wishing that he had a ring to give her. When he had awoken this morning he never would have dreamed that he would be proposing to Meg this afternoon, but now that it was happening he couldn’t imagine another day without her as his fiancée. 

“But, but your family. What will they think? I’m a dancer, not a noblewoman.” Meg protested. She hated having to ask the question but she couldn’t say yes if his family were going to keep them apart. If she gave her heart now she didn’t think she would be able to bear it if it was broken. 

“No one will stop me from marrying you,” he declared, “However Philippe has known for weeks that I am in love with you and I already have his blessing. Since he’s the head of the family, he’s the only one who matters. Everyone else will adore you, and if they don’t then they are utter fools.”

“No one will stop us?” Meg sought that final reassurance before she accepted.

“No one,” he confirmed, “Marry me Meg, be my wife.”

“Yes,” she accepted, unable to keep the ecstatic smile from her face.

“Oh, Meg,” Raoul was unable to put into words the joy he felt upon hearing Meg’s acceptance of his offer, but pulled her into a crushing hug. “My darling Meg.”

“I love you Raoul,” she said, tilting her head up for a kiss. “Never let me go.”

“Never,” he promised fiercely. “I want to marry you as soon as possible. Tomorrow. I don’t think I can bear another day without being your husband.”

“Tomorrow?” Meg giggled, “You think that you can arrange a wedding for tomorrow?”

“If we leave right now I could,” At Meg’s amused look, he revised his estimation, “Alright next week. But I will marry you before the month is over.”

“Good. I cannot wait to be your wife. But let’s not leave here just yet. I want to remember every detail of this perfect moment.” She said, trailing her fingers across his back. She knew that this wild garden, where they had declared their love and promised themselves to one another, would forever be a part of their lives and she could already imagine bringing their family here. 

“Mmm,” Raoul murmured his assent, before leaning down once more to kiss his fiancée, perfectly happy to spend the rest of the afternoon holding and loving her.


	20. A Chance Encounter

_ 20 years later _

“That would look lovely with your lavender gown,” Raoul commented, peering over Meg’s shoulder to look in the window at the display, “Would you like to go in and try it on?”

“No,” Meg decided, twisting around to give Raoul a small kiss, “It is lovely but you spoil me far too much.”

“But you know how much I enjoy spoiling you,” he said with an affectionate smile. It had been a long running argument throughout their marriage that Raoul purchased far too many gifts for his wife. In the first years of their marriage he had taken to buying anything Meg showed an interest in, but over the years he had learned to show some restrain. 

Meg smiled back at her husband. “There were some pieces that Helene might like, but I will come back with her another day. Besides, we haven’t had a day this nice in so long, you don’t want to remain inside.” With that she linked her arm through Raoul’s and continued walking down the street.

They slowly wandered along the streets of the city, indulging in some window shopping and taking in the sights. As was their habit, when they walked past the Opera Populaire they stopped to speak with the managers and see how rehearsals for the current opera were progressing. The de Chagnys had remained patrons of the Opera over the years, although Philippe had long ago stepped completely aside in favour of his brother and sister in law. Meg had continued to take a keen interest in the ballet and watched proudly as the young rats who had been in her change became line leaders and prima ballerinas. As part of the patronage arrangement with the managers, she had insisted that a portion of the funding that came from the de Changys be devoted to the training and living arrangements for the ballet rats and she was always considered a favourite by all the dancers. 

After they said their goodbyes and promised to attend a performance the next week, they stopped on the steps of the theatre. “Would you like some lunch now?” Meg asked, taking a step closer to Raoul and reaching for his hand.

Raoul pulled out his watch and nodded, “It is getting late, would you like to go to the cafe around the corner?”

Meg grinned mischievously, “No I have a better idea.”

“What are you up to?” he growled playfully, pulling his wife closer.

Playing with the buttons on Raoul’s shirt, she explained, “I asked cook to prepare a basket for us, it’s still in the carriage. I thought that we could have a picnic in our spot.” After their engagement, the secluded and wild area of the park where Raoul had proposed had quickly become their spot, as Meg had imagined. During the early years of their marriage they had spent hours together there, talking and dreaming about their future. Meg had told Raoul that she was expecting their first child there and he would arrange a surprise there for her on every anniversary. Although they had brought their children here, it had primarily remained Raoul and Meg’s place and it had for the most part stayed unchanged over the years.

“That is a wonderful idea.” Noticing the Meg was staring out onto the street he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“What? Oh nothing, I just thought I saw someone. Never mind,” she said shaking her head, “We should go collect the basket.”

Raoul escorted his wife back to their carriage, where she collected the basket from its hiding spot under the seats. As they started to make their way back to the park, they retraced their steps past the Opera Populaire. When they walked past the entrance a woman called out after them, “Excuse me!”

The couple turned around to see a woman their age quickly walking towards them. “Excuse me, please wait.” She called out again. A smile began to spread across Meg’s face as she realised that she had been correct earlier and she started walking forwards, pulling Raoul with her.

“It is you,” the woman gasped happily as they met. Leaning forward she pulled Meg into a hug and Meg eagerly wrapped her arms around the woman’s waist. “Oh Meg I was so certain that it was you. How I’ve missed you!”

“Christine,” Raoul murmured, suddenly realising who this woman was.

“Raoul,” Christine said, releasing Meg who stepped back to her husband’s side. “Let me look at both of you,” she exclaimed. “You’ve both changed so much, but you’re exactly the same Meg and Raoul that I always knew.”

“And you’re still Little Lotte,” Raoul said, taking in the sight of his childhood friend. 

Christine blushed and ducked her head at the reminder of her childhood nickname. “Nobody’s called me that in a very long time. But how are you both, and how long have you been married?”

“We’re good, very good. And we’ve been married more than twenty years now.” Meg answered for both of them.

“More than twenty years,” Christine repeated, “You must have been married whilst Meg was still at the Opera.”

“Meg retired when we were married, but she was still a dancer when I proposed,” Raoul said fondly, smiling down at his wife. 

“How wonderful,” Christine smiled, “I always hoped that the two of you would come together and that you would find love with each other. I just knew that you would be happy together. I can see that you are still as much in love as you probably were on your wedding day.”

“I don’t think I could ever stop being in love with Meg,” Raoul confessed, discretely squeezing her hand and earning a smile in return. 

“Do you have a family?” Christine asked.

“We have two sons and a daughter,” Raoul answered proudly, “Alain is the eldest, he’s currently studying law at the university here in Paris. Helene is our middle child, she’s a wonderful musician, and is just as beautiful as her mother.”

“Is she a dancer like her mother?” Christine interrupted.

“No,” Meg shook her head, “She had some lessons when she was younger but she never really took to it. Which was just as well, the daughter of a Vicomte can’t become a dancer.”

“Of course,” Christine realised, “And your youngest?”

“Our youngest is Marceau. He is still at school but he wants to be just like his uncle and become a business man,” Meg told her.

“Philippe, how is he?” 

“He’s good, although he is starting to complain about his age. He’s been a wonderful uncle; the children all adore him, Marceau especially.” Raoul said, “He finally married a few years ago. She’s a widow and already had children, but they are happy together.” 

“And Meg, how is your mother? I’ve missed Madame Giry tremendously over the years.” Christine enquired.

“She retired a few years after we were married. Her leg had become worse and all the doctors we saw said that nothing could be done about it. She’s living in a little flat not far from here. Raoul has asked her to move to the estate numerous times, but she always refuses. She says she likes her independence.”

“I can’t imagine her ever wanting to be dependent on anyone,” Christine murmured. Clearing her throat she asked, “Were you...did you...did she ever see the letters that I sent you?”

“I explained the important parts to her, but she has never actually read the letters.” Meg answered gently, seeing that Christine was distressed. 

“I always meant to send her a letter, an explanation, but suddenly years had passed and I didn’t want to bring up old memories. I just hoped that you had told her what I had said in my letters and that she knew how much I loved her and appreciated what she had done for me over the years.” She said, a waver evident in her voice.

“Christine, she knew and she was never upset with you. She understood, possibly more than any of us did.”

Don’t believe for a moment that we have ever held this against you Christine,” Raoul began, “Even if you told us everything that happened I can’t say that I would ever entirely understand, but I can accept that it was what you needed. All I ever wanted for you was for you to be happy and safe and at the end of it all, you were.” Although he had long wanted to know why Christine had vanished so suddenly from their lives and why she had been unable to contact them for so long, he realised that it no longer mattered. Christine was standing in front of him, proof that her letters had been true. To question why after so long was only likely to cause hurt and would do nothing to change the past. If Christine chose to tell them then he would listen, but he would not pursue the topic. 

“I never thought that I would have the opportunity to apologise to both of you in person,” Christine said, reaching across to grasp Meg’s hand.

“You do not need to apologise,” Meg emphasised, “Anything that required forgiveness, it was given long ago.”

“Still I need to. What happened back then, it shouldn’t have happened that way, but I think that at the time, it was the only way it could have occurred. However I should have found a way to get word to you much sooner than I did, regardless of the consequences. You must understand how horrible I felt when I discovered that you were searching for me in Germany, although I can see now that it was very naive of me not to expect you both to do that. You were both so wonderful to me and you deserved better. I am truly sorry.” Christine said sincerely, tears glistening in her eyes.

“In that case, you have our complete forgiveness,” Raoul accepted Christine’s apology for both of them.

“I would like to think that something good came of it all,” Christine said with a slight smile, gesturing at Raoul and Meg’s linked hands.

“It did,” Meg replied, glad that there was no awkwardness in discussing their marriage. When Christine had realised they were married Meg had worried that it may cause distress, as she and Raoul had only had the opportunity to discover their love because Christine was gone and that if Christine had stayed she and Raoul would no doubt have been married and had a family of their own. 

“I wish that I could have been at your wedding. You would have been such a beautiful bride,” Christine said wistfully.

There was silence for a few moments before Meg asked, “Are you happy Christine?” It was the question she had been desperate to ask since Christine approached them and she knew that Raoul wanted to know the answer as well. 

“I am,” Christine replied without hesitation, “My life has been interesting, but I couldn’t give it up.”

“Do you have a family; are there people in your life that care about you?” Meg questioned further.

“I do. It is a small group but they are all very dear and important to me.”

“We were about to have a picnic lunch. You should join us and you can tell us more,” Raoul suggested, “Knowing cook I’m sure that there will be more than enough food.”

“That sounds lovely, but I’m afraid I can’t,” Christine declined, “I’m only in Paris for a short while and I must be getting back.”

“Are you certain, we have over twenty years of news to share,” Meg beseeched.

“I’m sorry, but I really must be going,” Christine took a step backwards, indicating her intention to leave. “Meg, please give my love to your mother and Raoul sent my regards to Philippe.”

“We will,” Raoul agreed. 

“I am so pleased to see the two of you so happy together, it’s everything I could have hoped for,” Walking back towards Meg, Christine gave her a brief but firm hug.

“Goodbye Christine,” Meg whispered, slightly tearfully.

“We’ve missed you,” Raoul said, leaning across to brush a kiss on her cheek. 

“You know where to find us if you ever need anything and we would love to have you visit properly one day,” Meg invited.

“Perhaps. It would be lovely.” Christine agreed. “You should go and enjoy your picnic, before it gets too late.” With that she turned and started to walk away, pausing briefly to turn around and wave a final goodbye before disappearing around a corner.

“She seemed happy,” Raoul commented after a couple a minutes.

“She was happy,” Meg agreed, “I think she’s been happy for a very long time.”

“How can you tell?”

“I was her best friend. I know these things.” Meg said.

“That’s good then. I hate the thought of Christine being unhappy,” Raoul confessed.

“She was wearing a wedding ring, did you see it?” Raoul shook his head in response. “It was a gold band, very plain. Do you think that...?” Meg allowed her thought to trail off.

“I honestly don’t know,” he answered, “But whoever he is, I hope that their marriage as been as happy as ours.”

“Me too,” Meg agreed, leaning her head against Raoul’s and stroking her thumb across his hand, brushing his wedding band, “Me too.”


End file.
